#and doesn’t get across the very. symbolic atmosphere of the whole thing. for me anyway

[yea-baiyi]

i just posted but i feel INSANE hua cheng’s entire appearance in the ghost groom arc is just symbolism.

when xie lian is alone (having sent everyone away, in danger but perfectly capable of fighting his way out), hua cheng steps in front of xie lian, offers his hand, and guides xie lian through the woods to where he needs to be. monsters cower before him, magical barriers don’t stop him, he steps on the skulls of enemies and crushes them so thoroughly that xie lian behind him feels like he is walking on flat ground. he doesn’t just swoop in without asking — he offers his hand, and waits, and xie lian willingly reaches out and lets himself be guided. and his grip is featherlight, even as he steers xie lian through danger and darkness. his blood rain warns away all who would dare harm them, but xie lian doesn’t get hit by a drop. and hua cheng does this all in his true form, not in disguise, because he’s not playing a character or trying to achieve anything, this is just him. despite not being confident enough to face xie lian directly, hua cheng has already shown him exactly who he is.

(now excuse me while i gnaw through an entire wall because how was this not glaringly obvious to me all along)

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (8/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: You and Spencer meet at your favorite coffee shop - and he asks you to spend some time with him.

Warnings: some minor talk about injuries, mostly fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: hello friends! here’s part 8! I hope you like it. gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

As you enter the bullpen through the glass door, you are immediately stopped. "What are you doing here?", Emily asks, confused. She's standing at JJ's desk, both of them holding a coffee cup, looking at you in amazement. "I told you to stay home."

As you set your bag down on your desk, you wince briefly. "It's boring at home. Besides, it's just a minor bruise, Emily. And sitting at a desk doesn't require much physical exertion. I can handle it."

JJ presses her lips together. "I thought the doctor put you on bed rest because you narrowly escaped a broken rib." You give her a meaningful look. "Sorry, Y/N. You should take that seriously."

"You don't have to stab me in the back, though", you say playfully, and the three of you grin. "Desk duty?" Your eyes shift to Emily. She shakes her head and you sigh.

"We're on a case, Y/N. So no desk duty, and like JJ said, the doctor put you on bed rest."

You cross your arms in front of your chest, carefully, because the skin underneath is stained dark blue. You took quite a beating on your last case. The unsub kicked you in the torso with all his might as you tried to wrestle him down. And even though the pain shot through your whole body like a lightning bolt, you managed to do it.The result is a bruised rib that hurts a lot, but isn't so bad that you can't go on a mission.

Only Emily disagrees. "Go home, Y/N. Get some rest. If we need your help, we'll get back to you." You want to say something else, but she beats you to it. "That's an order."

Reluctantly, you shoulder your bag and try not to let the pain in your torso show. "You promise to call me if you need anything, though?"

Both women paint a cross over their chests where the heart is located. "Word of honor."

You don't feel like going home, because there's absolutely nothing waiting for you there. You could clean - which is against the bed rest, which you wouldn't stick to anyway - or cook something sensible, because your stomach has only had to experience ready-made meals and fast food lately, but you don't feel like it. Although it would be just the thing for you. A bit of everyday life would do you good, maybe take your mind off Spencer for a bit, and honestly, your life needs to get back on track.

So before you head to your local supermarket, you step into your favorite coffee shop. The smell of coffee wafts into your nose and the atmosphere alone warms you up, even though it's not particularly cold outside. You stand at the end of the queue, examining the pastries displayed in a small window. After ordering, you wait patiently for your drink and the muffin you couldn't pass without your mouth watering. The barista wishes you a nice day as she hands you the cup and you make your way towards the exit.

"Y/N?"

Your gaze lingers on Spencer, who is sitting at one of the small tables.  In front of him are several loose sheets of paper that take up the entire table and an empty coffee cup. You bite your lower lip. It's been several weeks since you've seen each other, as Spencer's one hundred days of work has expired and he's now teaching some students. As he smiles at you, you realize how much you've missed him these past few days.

"Hi, Spencer", you smile at him as you stand in front of his table. Your fingers curl around the back of the empty chair in front of you. "How are you?"

He reaches for the slips of paper in front of him and folds them before putting them in his pocket. "I'm fine, thanks." He closes his bag before placing it on the table. "What are you doing here? Don't you have a case to solve?"

"Emily gave me the day off. I took a kick and bruised up on our last case, so I'm not allowed to go out on case", you explain, shrugging. Spencer looks you up and down. He's probably trying to figure out where the injury is. "She sent me home again this morning."

Spencer gets up from his chair, shoulders his bag, and walks with you toward the exit. "So what are you planning to do today?"

"I was thinking about cooking myself something delicious and doing a little cleaning at home. To bring a bit of everyday life into my life," you answer and your tone tells him that you don't feel like it at all. "I'm not so sure about the cooking yet, though. After all, I don't want to risk food poisoning."

Spencer has to smile in response. "I can remember that. Everyday life isn't quite your thing."

You nod and pucker your mouth. "Right. But  I have to do something. And just sitting around at home waiting for the day to be over isn't an option."

Together, you walk a short distance, chatting about his students until you arrive at your car. You push the button on your key and hear the central locking system open. You open the driver's door. "See you around, Spencer," you say goodbye and are about to get in, but Spencer stops you.

"You could come with me", he suggests, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah. I'm about to teach another class, and you're welcome to join me." Blush rises to his face, and you're not quite sure if he's serious and really wants you there. But when he lifts his gaze from his shoes and looks you in the eye, your doubts evaporate. "So?"

"I'm actually Emily's phone joker“, you give out, because really, you're not sure spending the day with Spencer is the right thing to do, even if you'd only be sitting in the back of the lecture hall. "She wants to call me if they need help." You see Spencer's expression darken. Apparently he was excited to have you on board today, and your cancellation actually seems to hit him a bit. You take a deep breath. "But I'll still be happy to come along. If Emily does call, it could be very interesting for your students."

A smile spreads across his face, reaching up to his eyes. "Well then, let's go. Class starts in twenty minutes."

There's something comforting about sitting in the back of the lecture hall and listening to Spencer explain things to his students. It reminds you of the time you sat on your couch in the evenings, eating delivery dinners and watching documentaries. The TV sound was always on mute because Spencer's knowledge was so vast that his versions of the documentaries were much more exciting than the original versions. Those evenings had been perfect. Listening to him now, with a passion that seems all too familiar, the way he explains things and the looks he casts around the room, some sticking to you, come pretty close to those perfect evenings.

The ringing of your phone snaps you out of your thoughts. The students in front of you turn around in annoyance and you apologize as you get up from your seat. Spencer looks at you questioningly, but you just press your lips together into a thin line as you look at him and leave the lecture hall.

"What's up, Emily?", you ask her as you answer the call.

"The unsub always leaves puzzles at the crime scene", she begins without greeting you. You don't blame her. "And always different puzzles. Self-created crossword puzzles, number sequences, picture puzzles and symbol series, for example. Maybe you can take a look at them sometime." Emily emails you the puzzles, and before you can ask how the case is going, the line goes silent. Typical Emily.

You open the emails and are inundated with images. Emily definitely didn't overstate. As you head back into the lecture hall, you give Spencer a meaningful look.

"Excuse me for a moment", he says to his students and is with you in just a few steps. "Does Emily have something for us?"

Us. As he says the word, you warm to it. While he doesn't mean it the way you'd like, you're incredibly glad that he considers you friends. Although, really, you don't deserve it, because it's all based on a lie. You push the thought aside. Spencer is standing so close to you that you can breathe in his perfume and feel the warmth of his body. You have to pull yourself together not to inhale his scent deeply.

"The unsub leaves puzzles at the scene", you describe the situation, handing him your phone so he can take a look. You can practically see his brain start to rattle and before you can do anything, Spencer walks forward again.

"So, guys. This", he turns back to his students and gestures for you to join him with a wave. Tense and a little nervous, you stand next to him and raise your hand. "Is my colleague and friend SSA Y/N Y/L/N. Since she sustained some injuries on her last case, she is assisting me today." He hands your phone back to you. "Can you project the pictures on the wall somehow?" he whispers to you and you have to grin. The guy has several PhDs, but can't manage to connect a cell phone to a projector. You tap the screen a few times, playing it safe to make sure the projector on the ceiling is actually turned on, and moments later the puzzles appear on the wall behind you. Spencer smiles at you.

"Today you have the honor of working on a real and, more importantly, current case", Spencer speaks to the students again, curiosity spreading across their faces. They all sit up straight and listen intently as he paces. "Unit Chief Prentiss and our team are in the field right now and have found these puzzles at the crime scenes. Please take a look and let us know your thoughts. Maybe you can give us an important clue."

Immediately, the students start talking to each other, sharing theories and jotting down their thoughts on paper. Spencer and you lean against his desk at the time, watching the scene. You keep noticing how some of the female students give him ogling looks, but as soon as they meet your gaze, awkwardly turn back to the task at hand.

"How many people audit in your class?", you ask him quietly, Spencer shrugs. "Because I think the girls in the first two rows are just here to stare at you." You nudge him with your shoulder and stifle a grin.

"You and your imaginations", he replies, but he has to grin, too. He opens his mouth, about to say something else, but a student beats him to it.

"Professor, agent, I think we've found something."

And indeed. Together you are able to crack the puzzles, which takes the rest of the day, but neither you two nor the students complain about it. After you update Emily on your progress and send the students home, they actually thank you and ask if you'll keep coming to class.

As Spencer packs up his things and the last people leave the lecture hall, you wait patiently for him at the exit. The day has been pretty exhausting, but you're glad you got to spend it with Spencer. You're sure that today is a very good start for a friendship. And that alone makes your heart beat a little faster.

A young woman suddenly stops in front of you, and you avert your eyes from Spencer. You recognize her. She was sitting in the front row until just now, and she was one of the girls staring at Spencer throughout.

"Agent Y/L/N?" She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and chews on her bottom lip. She's visibly nervous. "Can I ask you something?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Sure."

"Are you ... I mean ... are you and Professor Reid a couple?", she stammers. "I know it's a pretty personal question. But I've noticed the way they look at each other and -"

"We're colleagues and friends", you interrupt her immediately. You don't sound harsh, but your tone doesn't leave room for another question either, so she turns away with a quick nod of her head and disappears from the lecture hall. You look after her.

How did you look at each other? The way friends do, right? Maybe there was some longing in your looks, after all, you love Spencer, but you're pretty sure that wasn't the case with him. When Spencer walks up to you and puts a hand on your arm, you flinch briefly in shock. "Are you okay?"

You nod at him. "Uh, yeah." Together, you leave the room. Should you tell him about the question? Or would that be weird in light of the fact that you had actually been a couple once? "She had another question." Spencer looks at you, a sign that you should keep talking. "She asked if we were a couple." At your answer, he stops and looks at you curiously. "She was one of the ones eyeing you. She said we looked at each other in a special way, or something. But I think she just wanted to know if you were available." The situation is so weird that you can't stop talking. Luckily, Spencer eventually interjects.

"And what did you say to her?" He sounds unsure.

"What would you like me to have said to her, Spencer? We're colleagues and friends." You adjust the bag on your shoulder and smile slightly at him before turning and continuing towards the exit. You want to escape this moment and are relieved when the wind outside hits your face and cools your heated skin. Finally, you can take a breath.

You don't see Spencer's expression twist and his voice is just a whisper that you don't notice. "Right ... friends."

next part

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[byulsgrease]

if you arent too busy, can you write a idol!hwasa x idol!reader, wherein they both have to practice with each other for a special stage. However on the first meeting they become starstruck and cant believe somethings are real, but soon warm up to each other?

i'm not terribly busy but this still took a while anyway oops - sorry this took so long anon! here you go :D

if anyone has requests for the other members hmu cuz I've got 2 more hyejin reqs after this one (not that I'm complaining)

"who says we can't do something on our own?"

(hwasa x idol!reader, ~1.2k words)

cw: food + alcohol mention (y'all know how it is)

I named someone Minjeong - it's not Aespa's Winter, idk anything about 4th gen gg's - 민정 is my Korean name so it's just what came to mind

"Hey, wake up. You've gotta see this. GET UP," a voice piercing through the fog of your sleep.

What a rude awakening. Your shoulders being shaken vigorously by a pair of small hands meant they belonged to none other than Minjeong, your youngest group member. You rolled over to glare menacingly at her with one eye open, trying to pull your brain out of the slumber. All you could see was the bright light of her phone shining in your eyes - a video of some kind. But then you heard the audio:

"Have you seen the clip?" asked the interviewer.

"Yes, my members and many MooMoos made sure I saw it"— Moos? Oh, it's Hwasa. WAIT. Both your eyes flew open as you sat up and snatched Jeongie's phone out of her hand to stare at the video. Your mind immediately flashed back to the interview you did last week - they asked who you most wanted to collaborate with, if there were no limitations. Your ears started to heat up at the sheer thought of the flustered mess of an answer you gave - of course you said Hwasa. Both of you debuted relatively close to each other, within a year, but never interacted much over the years. Mamamoo as a group was a force to be reckoned with, but there was just something about Hwasa specifically. You mostly just admired her unique singing voice and undeniable stage presence, and her relentless drive to always be herself in an industry constantly trying to fit women into a box.

Finally snapping out of re-living that embarrassment, your attention turned back to the phone in your hand. The interviewer must've asked her to send a message in response to you, because you couldn't believe that she was waving and saying, "How haven't we gotten to know each other better over all these years? I'd love to work with you on something sometime," curtly dipping her head in a slight bow.

"SEE? You needed to see that," Minjeong rushed to say, full of energy. "And close your mouth, your jaw's on the floor," jokingly pointing.

You side-eyed her and shut your mouth. "Is this what Loco felt like when she called him during Hyena on the Keyboard?" you wondered aloud.

"At least she's not calling you while on camera," she commented, knowing full well that you'd probably embarrass yourself again if she did. "But hey, at least she noticed you! Can I have my phone back now?" It would be a dream come true to collaborate with her, but cross-company collabs... always a pain. that couldn't be helped. The fantasy abruptly ended with demands from your rumbling stomach. Done with your what-if's, you placed the phone back in your maknae's outstretched hand to get up and make breakfast.

~~~~

With award show season rolling around, the crazy scramble of rehearsing for special live stages without leaking sets and collabs began. Checking your email that morning showed a schedule to record the backing track for a special live stage, but that was it. With who? You texted your members a screenshot, but they all told you that block of time in their schedule was empty. A solo stage? The solo mini-album you released this cycle did relatively well, the title track got a music show win, but not a multi-week chart-topper by any means. Possibilities turning over in your mind, you stepped out from your place to head to the company, totally in the dark about what was in store.

The recording studio always smelled the same along with the couches, a comfort for all the insanely long nights and crack-of-dawn early mornings over the years. With a bit of time to kill, you plopped down on one and gingerly patted the worn cushions as some kind of symbolic thank-you for supporting you (literally).

A hesitant but loud knock sent your gaze directly to the door. Watching it slowly open, you leaned forward to see who it was. Needless to say, your jaw fell to the floor again as you clapped a hand over your gaping mouth, eyes widening. Like a soldier obeying a command, you immediately stood up as straight as possible and bowed profusely at Hwasa, sporting a very similar expression on her face (which you failed to notice, your mind running a million miles a minute).

After a series of frantic bows and miscellaneous utterances to each other, she spoke. "It's nice to finally meet you," she said with calm, surveying your frenzied state. "I guess we're granting that collab wish from your interview, huh?"

The red-hot embarrassment leapt to your face. "I...I definitely made a fool of myself answering that question. And our maknae showed me your interview clip too, which was cool, but never did I think it would actually happen," you stammered. I should probably stop talking.

"Well, here I am," she half-smiled coolly. "Let's get started, I'm really looking forward to finally work with you on this," a gleam in her eye and a hint of excitement in her voice.

The studio suddenly felt a lot smaller with her in it, despite there only being your managers, the producer, and the both of you - less people than you and your members alone. Both of you remained relatively quiet the whole time, rather unsure of what to say or talk about. You watched enough MMMTV to know that all the members on their own were shyer than together, and Hwasa knew the same was true for you. But the work basically took care of itself, seamlessly taking turns in the recording booth, witnessing each other's work style and process. The both of you knew your way in front of a mic, seasoned professionals by now. Upon wrapping up, you bowed politely to each other after a quick exchange of KaTalk info, a short and sweet goodbye.

That was... anticlimactic. I mean, it's finally happening - I can't believe it. But maybe I was too idealistic about maybe creating a meaningful relationship with her outside of work... What does she think of me?

~~~~

In the days leading up to the collab stage, you kept going back and forth on whether to reach out or not, despite now being in possession of her contact info. What would you even say? Thoughts of a witty one-liner or relatable meme came to mind, but maybe she'd assume the worst - that you were clout-chasing, or something. Anxieties abuzz, your phone vibrated in your pocket. The KaTalk notification sprawled across your screen. Speak of the devil, it's her.

"Hey, awards season has me stressed. I know you must pretty busy right now too, but I somehow get off early tomorrow if you wanna grab dinner after work?" You had to reread that one. Oh, what? She's inviting me?

Trying not to be weird about responding too quickly, you typed out, "Wow, yeah, that sounds great! ^^ wait, your company doesn't care about you going out to eat during award season?"

"nah, they stopped having that kind of control over us a while ago, we are the money-maker of the company, after all 😏"

"so I guess this means they don't check your phone either ㅋㅋㅋ"

"nope :)"

You proceeded to set a time and place to meet, someplace with meat.

In the process of feasting on an inordinate amount of gopchang imbued with a splash of beer, you learned a fair amount about each other. You talked career, professional aspirations, the weird habits of your members, and more. What surprised you most was the amount of things she already knew about you, having admitted to watching some of your behind-the-scenes content after seeing your interview clip.

"Ah... I'm sorry if I came across as distant during that first recording session," she confessed, pausing to sip her beer. "I honestly didn't know what to do with myself, I felt a little star-struck."

"Oh what?? I felt the exact same, so no worries - and sorry if I came off similarly distant," you rambled back. A bit of silence fell between you, acknowledging the mutual sentiment. You spoke up after a bit, "Thanks for inviting me out tonight, I didn't realize how much I needed this."

"Thank you for making the time, I had fun getting to know you better," she articulated with a smile. "Maybe it'll make the collab stage better," she added on jokingly. You responded with a nod and expression of mutual affirmation.

~~~~

After that, messaging each other became a regular occurrence, that gopchang outing having broken the ice. Honestly, you tried your best to talk about anything besides work, but the baseline of shared understanding connected you in a way that came more naturally than it did with your non idol friends.

You stood across the way from her at the sound check for the final stage, dressed in joggers and slides. Funny to think that you'd be recording this for real in a couple hours, making eyes with the blinking red light on the cameras surrounding you. It sucks that fans wouldn't get to experience the energy and atmosphere of the performance - Hyejin alone is one thing, but adding someone else into her stage presence? Unmatched. There's nothing quite like a live performance - and while you knew everyone in the industry dealt with the consequences of the pandemic, it certainly took a toll to perform and not feel the energy from fans. But realistically, nothing you could do about it. The sound check went over smooth like butter. The stage chemistry came flowing naturally between you both, even when bare-faced and dressed in just sweats.

And when the time came for the actual filming, you both absolutely killed it, an upbeat mash-up of TWIT and your title track. At the very end came a sliver of hesitation before throwing your arms around each other with a big smile for the ending fairy, proud of the work you accomplished together, and a mental fist-pump to yourself for making friends with one of the industry's finest.

Once again walking to a restaurant that served mostly meat to celebrate, you playfully proposed, "We... should do that again sometime." A little puff of air came out her nose in amusement.

"Yeah, we should. Too bad we're gonna have to wait a whole cycle before we can release anything else together again," she sighed longingly.

"Who says we can't do something on our own?"

[rheawritessometimes]

In Bloom

{ Xiao x GN!Gardener!Reader }

{ Summary } Looking for flowers is more dangerous than it seems.

{ Warnings } Violence, Injury, Mention of Death, Not Even Proofread.

{ Notes } Reader runs on dumb luck and also is kind of like an ecologist or something. Reader is a bit of an airhead. This is probably the most serious fic I've written, with no jokes or additions stricken out. But yeah I just typed this out and didn't even read it over, so if it's bad... Just know this is just a little something while I work on longer garbage. Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,112

Appealing to the Vigilant Yaksha was an easy, one could even say effortless, thing for you. You hadn't taken the almond tofu route as others before you had, instead, you left him some Qingxin flowers. These flowers did not come from the peaks of Huaguong Stone Forest nor the Mingyun Village, rather they were among the finest specimens you had grown in your garden. The translucent white petals were soft like velvet and entirely free from blemish.

Your small gift to the adeptus wasn't exactly intentional. In truth, you had left the flowers on the balcony of Wangshu Inn entirely by accident and when you returned to retrieve them they were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a pale man with dark hair leaning over the balcony. When you halted your approach, he turned his head towards you, indicating he had heard your footsteps.

Striking golden eyes seemed to gaze straight through you, sending a chill down your spine. His expression was entirely neutral, you couldn't get even a hint as to what he was thinking. Nothing about his outward appearance screamed danger, but the ominous aura you sensed made you take a step back.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to disturb you," you squeaked out, sounding a lot less confident than you had intended. You take a step backward, but couldn't bring yourself to tear your eyes from him.

"Don't apologize. You're welcome to stay," he replied after a few beats of silence, his tone sounding strained for a reason you couldn't discern.

"Um, okay, thank you," you replied politely, feeling it would be too awkward to leave now. It felt to you as though you were now trapped here for a little while out of social obligation. You stepped out towards the railing, deciding to at least enjoy the view if you had to stay.

The man didn't look at you, but you couldn't help but take in his appearance. He was objectively good-looking with bright amber eyes, dark hair with teal highlights, and his stoic expression. His clothing wasn't outlandish, but it's not the type you would commonly see on the streets of Liyue.

It took a while for the dark mask resting against the man's hip to catch your attention, but once it did you felt like a fool. It was not common knowledge, however, the fact an adeptus resided at the Wangshu Inn was not exactly a secret. One which you were privy to. The mask was the most obvious indication of his status as an adeptus. Not just any adeptus, not that any of them were anything to look down upon, but one of the Yakshas. The last of the five Yakshas.

"Alatus," the name escapes your lips as a whisper before you can think to stop it. Immediately your eyes widen, but before you could issue an apology the man just sighs softly. It doesn't sound particularly angered, but rather weary.

"Xiao. My name is Xiao," he says without turning to look at you. That's all he says before vanishing in a cloud of black mist and falling feathers of anemo energy. The mist and feathers are both quick to dissipate, leaving you standing with your mouth hanging open.

After that encounter, it had become a regular occurrence, at least once weekly, for you to pick one of the finest flowers from your garden and bring it to Wangshu Inn to leave on the balcony, or give directly to Xiao should he show himself. Most often you brought him a Qingxin, but occasionally you would substitute other flowers as not to end up plucking every Qingxin you had grown. You never picked the very best flower, either. Even for an adeptus you couldn't bring yourself to pick the best examples, rather letting them grow in peace for your prolonged enjoyment.

It wasn't until the third time you had come to the inn with a flower for Xiao that he was waiting for you on the balcony. Seeing the yaksha there made you pause, heart skipping a beat in surprise. He turned from his place looking out across the landscape to see you, certainly not as surprised to see you as you were him.

The way he looked expectantly at the flower in your hand has you realizing you had been standing there frozen. You moved, extending the flower out to him in offering. He took it delicately from your hand, looking it over for a moment.

"Thank you," he said softly, so quiet you almost didn't hear it at all. You could only nod stiffly in response. He scoffed at you before turning around again to lean against the balcony railing.

Just as it had the first time you met the yaksha, it felt wrong to just leave. So, you decided to survey the landscape of Liyue with him in silence. After the first few minutes, the atmosphere became rather comfortable between the two of you. Still, by the time he disappeared in a cloud of black mist and anemo feathers, neither of you had spoken a word.

This morning you were out early in the morning to explore the wilds of Liyue. You were no adventurer, though. Your purpose was to analyze the populations of certain flora and fauna. These were trips you made often to various parts of Liyue, wishing to preserve the life of endangered species, and always alone. Bringing people along to the locations of such rare organisms, be it plant or animal, was a dangerous thing. In many instances, rare means valuable and there are those who would do anything for some Mora.

Today you found yourself in Dihua Marsh to check up on the Glaze Lily population. Based on your counts, the number hadn't fluctuated greatly since your last visit, there were even a few new blooms. This brought you great relief, Glaze Lilies seemed to be somewhat of a symbol of Liyue and it would sadden you to see their wild population disappear, even if they remained in Qingce Village and at the Yujing Terrace. It wouldn't be the same.

Once you had sung a few songs to the flowers, not worried about anyone hearing you in this rather secluded area, you made your way back to one of the main roads. The long walks back to the harbor always ended up with you lost deep in thought, which wasn't always a good thing. Lost deep in your own mind, you didn't notice the slow advance of a small group of Treasure Hoarders until it was too late.

There was no time to run away as they surrounded you, it was unlikely you could have outrun them anyways. Fortunately, it didn't take very long for the Treasure Hoarders to discover you had absolutely nothing of value on you, and while they may be thieves it wasn't often a Treasure Hoarder was a murderer. Of course, they had roughed you up a bit before ultimately leaving you alone. There was a nasty scrape on your cheek and you were sure you would be bruised in the morning, but you weren't seriously injured.

By the next day, your muscles ached and bruises had appeared in various places on your body, but the scrapes had stopped bleeding and it was nothing that would stop you from bringing your usual offering to Xiao. You spent some time perusing your garden, looking for the perfect gift. You settled on a Silk Flower, there was some worry in your mind that Xiao would dislike it because they did grow right outside of the Wangshu Inn, but you hope the exceptional fragrance and color of this specimen would gain his appreciation.

Mindful not to fiddle with the flower as to preserve its pristine state, you worried the whole walk to the inn. Even if the adeptus wasn't present, if he rejected the offering you felt you would know. Maybe you would find the flower sitting where you left it on your next visit, or maybe Verr Goldet would tell you about the silk flower she found laying on the balcony. Your heart clenched at the thought and you couldn't help but wonder when you had started seeking the yaksha's approval.

You hadn't even realized you arrived at the inn until you were stepping off the elevator, lost in thought again. Shaking your head, you thought it would be good if you started paying more attention. Getting ambushed by again was the last thing you wanted, the next time it could be worse than petty thieves.

Pushing the negative thoughts from your mind, you climbed the stairs to the balcony you so often visited. Your muscles ached in quiet protest, but the pain was mild. Peeking over the stairs, you spotted Xiao.

For the first time, he was already facing you, leaning with his back against the railing. You wondered if he had spotted you on your way to the Inn, offering him a polite smile as a silent greeting. You extended the Silk Flower to him once you stepped out onto the balcony.

"What happened to you?" Xiao asked immediately, tone stern. He took the flower from you without even sparing a glance down at it. Did he not like Silk Flowers?

"Oh, um, I just bumped into some Treasure Hoarders yesterday. Nothing serious," you answered after finally processing his question, bringing your hand up to the scrape on your cheek without thinking. His frown deepened with your response and the adeptus crossed his arms over your chest.

"You were hurt," he pointed out bluntly. You felt small under his hard stare.

"Oh, it's nothing, um, serious," you assured him with a nervous laugh. He only furrowed his brows at your response.

"If ever again you find yourself in any danger, call my name. Adeptus Xiao. I will be there when you call."

At his words, your cheeks heated up. Was this some sort of special treatment, or did he offer this to anyone? It felt wrong to receive such kindness from an adeptus if it was only for you.

"Promise," he pressed when you didn't answer.

"Okay, I will. If I'm ever in danger, I'll call you," you agreed meekly, feeling a great weight put upon you under his amber gaze. He huffed before disappearing in his usual manner, and it was impossible for you to tell if he was upset with you.

The next time you visited the inn, Xiao hadn't appeared. This wasn't unusual, but the worry that you had displeased him seeped into your bones. You tried to ignore this feeling, going out often to check on wildlife populations and spending extra time tending to your garden. Keeping busy was the best way to take your mind off your worries and stay productive.

A week after your meeting with the Vigilant Yaksha, you were back at Dihua Marsh checking on the Glaze Lilies. You were sitting in the middle of the lilies, singing softly to the patch of flowers when the sound of shouting reached your ears. Looking up, you noticed two hilichurls accompanied by a mitachurl with a stone shield who was charging your way.

There would be no time for you to get up and out of the way, so you closed your eyes and braced for the impact. You could only pray it wouldn't kill you, but even if it didn't you would probably be unable to escape death by the hilichurls soon after.

The impact never came, instead, a gust of wind blew past you and you wondered if the mitachurl had somehow run past you. When you opened your eyes, you saw Glaze Lily petals swirl into the air, dancing around the familiar figure of the Vigilant Yaksha. The mitachurl was already crumbling to dust, returning to the Abyss with it's hilichurl companions.

Xiao turned to face you, mask dematerializing from his face and reappearing at his hip. When he extended his hand down to help you get up, you furrowed your brows wondering why he had been here. Was it incredible luck, or had he perhaps been following you?

Taking his hand, you let him pull you up onto shaky legs. He didn't let go, looking a little worried you'd fall. You finally looked up to his face, scanning golden eyes.

"Why are you here?" you finally asked, throat feeling a bit scratchy.

"I told you I would be there when you called."

His words only confused you further until it dawned on you, the scratchy feeling in your throat was awfully similar to that which came with yelling. Had you truly called his name without even thinking, without even realizing?

"Thank you, Xiao."

[writingsfromhome]

Water under the Bridge (Josslyn II)

A/N: Okay! Here it is!!!! This was fun and made my heart hurt a little but maybe I’m just being emotional. And can you guys believe it’s been over a year since I posted Josslyn?? Where has the time gone?? I don’t think we’re on the sacred timeline anymore........Anyway thank you anon who suggested this storyline, and hope y’all enjoy! <3

Josslyn (Original)

------

We’re going to have the best weekends evr, Regan texts me even though she’s just in the other room. Schedules were released for our summer semester and Regan and I had managed to get Fridays off. Summer was going to be so fun, and after two years doing college together we were experts at managing our workload to have fun on the weekends--even if that meant sacrificing a few nights’ sleep.

We’ll make summer our bitch, I text back. I hear a chuckle from her room.

Help me pick out a fit? she texts. I want to tell her Adam would love her in whatever, but I head to her room instead and watch her try on a dozen outfits before settling on the second. I tease her about Adam--they were going steady since first year, but she still got so nervous about him sometimes. Adam’s college was a train ride away so he would come down at least one weekend a month.

As for my own love life, there’d been no one steady. I did the whole hooking up and dating scene in first year but I was romantically burnt out by second. Nowadays, I could go home with someone if I chose to, but I also didn’t mind if I didn’t. My active endeavor to find a boyfriend had stopped when I realized I was trying to fill a gap. Instead, I was learning to be happy on my own.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you?” Regan asks. She was taking the train to Adam’s college and staying with him, there was this big start-of-summer party and she’d been trying to convince me for weeks.

“I don’t feel like being a third wheel,” I tell her honestly.

“You don’t have to!” She goes over her one argument again. “Gaelle’s roommate isn’t even back until next week so she has a spare room! She said you should come. Plus,” she ties her hair up, “it’s the weekend before the semester starts so have some fun.”

I make a noise, and she turns to look at me, totally judging me. It makes me laugh. “That’s why my version of fun is to.binge Netflix and-”

“Y/N!” She groans.

“Fine! I’ll go.”

Two words that would change everything.

***

By the time we get to the campus, Regan and I had come up with a dozen things we could potentially do this summer. I’m high on excitement as we meet up with Gaelle, and the three of us head to Adam’s place.

The sun is almost set by the time we leave, most of the sky is dark but a streak of orange stays stubbornly on the horizon. I pause to take pictures before we’re rushing off.

We approach the frat house--if you could call it that. It was half glass with a very modern structure. The greek symbol on the side of the house was the only indicator it wasn’t a millionaire’s summer-house.

“Since when did frat houses get so modern?” I ask. “This is...nice.”

“Wait ‘til you see inside,” Adam says. And he was right, even the drinks were fancier with their own guy behind the bar...although he was taking the occasional shot and getting progressively drunk.

We settle in an area close to the music and get swept up into the party atmosphere. Some people were beyond drunk already and I enjoyed the slight buzz of the drink in my hand. The views from inside with floor-to-ceiling windows were amazing.

Pretty soon, Adam and Regan break off. We move towards the centre of the party where the typical party shenanigans were happening. We tip back our drinks and pretty soon I’m straddling the line between tipsy and drunk. I find a cute boy with blonde hair and deep brown eyes and makeout with him until he gets too handsy.

“Ugh!” I give him one last shove and look for Gaelle but I’d lost her too. I search for a bathroom but they’re either occupied or have a lineup. This was a huge ass house, one of the bedrooms had to have one.

I open the first door to shouting.

“It’s called locking the door!” I shout drunkenly as I close it. The next room actually is locked, and the next one isn’t but I wish it was. “Eugh.”

I climb up to the topmost level, three doors--one was locked with the sound of people inside and the second is a bathroom. I was grateful people hadn’t made it up this far.

As I wash up, and touch up the mascara that was crusting under my eyes the door shakes as someone bangs on it from the other side.

“Dip! What the fuck are you doing in there? Everyone’s waiting for you!”

My heart pounds at the sudden noise and the deep voice demanding me to open up. The rush of adrenaline sobers me for a moment as I rush to open the door, “Sorry I didn’t realise anyone was...waiting.”

My words slow down and freeze altogether as I realise the fist banging on the door belonged to...him. Harry. He seems just as surprised as me, straightening up before a smile slowly inches across his face, it was almost sweet bordering on predatory. “Y/N!”

“Hi,” I say awkwardly. There was a lot of history and also not at all. I was also, I decide, too drunk for this. Act sober, this is not the night to run into this fucker.

“You-you’re the last person I was expecting to--excuse me it’s... good to see you! You look--you look as beautiful as ever!”

The events from high school that created this tense history between Harry and I was one of the worst things possible to happen to teenage Y/N. The thing is though, that I’d totally bounced back after I had decided he could fuck himself. Although it was awkward seeing him every day until graduation, it made me tougher. I credit it for making me so casual about relationships now...I stopped expecting so much of the boys I saw.

But leaving high school behind, my world expanded with college, I realised how childish it had all been: I’d had a fling with a player, and he’d played the field...It wasn’t that deep. But seeing him now, It made me aware in a way I wasn’t for a long time. Maybe what they said about distance had some merit. Or maybe I was just buzzed.

“Thanks...I wasn’t expecting you either.”

“You don’t uh, you don’t go here do you? I’ve never seen you around.”

“No,” I look out to the small hall but there’s no one there. The room that was previously locked is slightly ajar carrying male voices. “Adam goes here, I’m...with Regan.”

“Ah, Regan.” He smiles. “You’re still two peas in a pod?”

“Obviously,” The stiffness eases at the mention of my best friend. “So...can I get out of here?”

“Yeah sorry,” he moves aside so I can step into the hall. “Um, we’re playing video games in here room if you...you’re probably not interested.”

I clear my throat, Harry was playing video games when there was a party downstairs? I was curious, that maybe he changed.

“Oh,” he laughs and the dimples I adored make an appearance. “I’ve still got it! My frat just hosts too many parties for me to keep track.”

I guess I said that out loud, I bite my tongue but it really has a life of it’s own. “Did you jussay you still got it?” Oh my god, I was teasing him already. What about Harry made me absolute putty.

“Yeah,” he looks almost bashful. “Uhm, go easy I’m a little nervous here Y/N.”

I don’t know what to say to that, I bite my lip so nothing stupid comes out.

“So you’re just here for the night?” He carries on.

“Staying over with a friend,”

“A fr-” he cuts himself off, pressing his lips together. I realize I’m staring and look away.

“I should go-”

“Wait I-wait uh, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Yea,” I play with the rings on my fingers. “M’good, great. College’s a lot better than high school.”

“It’s not even comparable,” Harry says as he leans his shoulder against the wall. He looks perfectly placed there, and a tipsy voice flashes inappropriate thoughts into my head. “So...any...boyfriends?”

“Um,” that was direct. “No. No, I’m trying out being single...”

“Did something happen?” His expression is still casual but he holds himself rigid.

“No? A girl can’t be single?”

“Sure but someone like you...I’m just surprised.”

“Whatever that means,” I roll my eyes and head past him to go down but he blocks my way.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to offend you...” his voice dies out as I cross my arms. “I also didn’t mean to block you in.”

He steps aside and it feels painful to me but I take the small steps towards the staircase. One part of me--I blame the tipsy stupid part, wants to kiss him just to see if there was still something there, see if anything’s changed. The other was listing all the reasons this was an awful idea, to top it off he was a proven player, has broken my trust once before, and went to a school almost 2 hours from mine.

“Y/N,” Harry’s gruff voice says from behind me. My feet turn without permission and he’s right behind me. “M’sorry. Let me start over.”

I glance at his lips, damn. I can’t meet his eye suddenly. Oh god, I was still pretty tipsy. My mind short-circuits and all I can do is turn back to walk away, down the two sets of stairs, past sweaty bodies and loose limbs. In a great coincidence I bump into Gaelle in what looks like a game room.

“Harry goes here?” I ask--shout at her immediately. Her eyes widen, something passes over her face. “Was no one going to tell me he was going to be here?”

“I’m sorry!” She shouts. “I forgot you two had history!”

“I just wish I was prepared,” I say and she doesn’t hear, I just shake my head when she asks me to repeat. I needed another drink, and Regan. Maybe she could remind me why I stopped caring about him.

As I set off to find her, I’m reminded again how stupid this all was. High school was an ancient dream, we were all different people. I was a different person.

But even though what happened in high school was petty and juvenile, I remember how Harry made me feel. How it felt when we were together--even if it was a joke for him back then, I couldn’t forget the feeling of being seen. Of having arms to fall into, even if I knew they weren’t permanent.

“Regan!” I find her sitting on the dining table while Adam spoke with someone else. Her eyes alight and she waves me over. “I saw him! He...he goes here!”

“Who?” Confusion strings her brows together.

“Harry! From...you know Harry! He was upstairs! I--I didn’t know how to act.”

“Shit Harry! I forgot he went here!”

“You knew?” I throw my hands up.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal! He’s a dick but that was high school?”

“No I-” I sigh. “You’re supposed to tell me he’s still a dick! I saw him and it just got...complicated.”

Regan slides off the table and pulls me into a side hug, we can also hear each other better. “You’re a big kid now, do whatever you want Y/N. Tell him off, kiss his face, take revenge, who the fuck cares? We’re taking the train two hours home after this anyway!”

She had a point. But still...he couldn’t have changed much from the boy who hurt me.

“Adam hangs out with him sometimes,” Regan continues. “Apparently he’s not as bad as high school. He’s...mellowed out.”

“Unreal,” I roll my eyes. Adam was just covering for his friend. We hear a cheer go up behind us and Regan bulges her eyes as two guys help Adam up on his hands to do a keg stand.

Regan swears and heads back to him. I walk away, somehow feeling more and less confused after talking to Regan--do I go back up and see what this leftover emotion was, or ignore it as a drunken need for comfort?

But it’s like the decision is made for me when a hand wraps around my arm as I move from the dining area to the kitchen. I already know it’s him before I turn.

“Can we talk?” he asks. I nod and his grip loosens, slipping down into my palm. “Upstairs?” He motions to the staircase and we climb up the two flights. This time he leads me into one of the locked doors and although I’ve never been here, I’d been in some version of this room before. It’s familiar.

I ignore the ache when he lets go of my hand once we’re inside. I set my drink down on his desk and perch on the window ledge, it’s not big enough to sit on but has enough space for a few of his books and a speaker. His room’s pretty near, but then again Harry was never messy.

“So what do you want-” I start just as he says “Let me get this off my chest.”

“Go ahead,” I cross my arms before uncrossing them, and then crossing them again. With the way he ruffles his hair and crosses to the door and back, he seems just as nervous.

“You can leave at any time. I just want to say I was an asshole, I still kind of am sometimes. And I’m sorry for what I did to you. I know it’s like what--2 years late but all that with...Josslyn and all that...I’m sorry.”

Hearing her name makes me want to grind my teeth but I let the feeling pass. I reach for my drink instead to give me something to do. “It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Really?” Harry regards me suspiciously. “Because the way you were talking to me out there...”

“You’re just you,” I shrug. “Harry Styles, player and sweet-talker. I was just guarding myself against that.”

“Because of what happened between us?”

“No...maybe. I don’t know. But honestly, I’m not upset with you. It feels like an eternity ago. I guess it’s just self-preservation.”

“I guess,” he echoes. “So where does that leave us? If you’re all self-preserved?”

I eye him but he cracks a smile, he was teasing me. “It doesn’t have to leave us anywhere,” I snort. “We’re water under the bridge Harry...”

“My parents split,” he says suddenly and I’m reeling with the direction he’s taken. I open my mouth, and close it when nothing comes out. “Sorry, I know that’s random it’s just I never really talked to anyone about how they were rarely home and when they were they were always arguing a-and we spoke about it a lot. About our families so I just...”

“I’m sorry to hear that, do they still live in town?” I ask, wanting to put my hand on his or show him I cared but they stay glued to my drink.

“My mom moved into the city, it’s closer to her job and since I’m not living at home anymore it doesn’t really matter...”

“You still go home?” I ask.

“I don’t even know where home is?” He looks at me then, and the look in his eyes chips at the wall I’d been trying to build all night. Things had changed, for him.

“Are you--do you have someone to talk to?”

His laugh is dry, “They split last summer, convinced me to talk to some therapist. I don’t know if it really helped I think I’m actually better off. They’re better off and I just feel...free.”

I don’t know what to say to that so I stay quiet. He looks back up at me then, cracks his knuckles, before perching on his bed. “I’m just--sorry I’m not telling you that so you can feel sorry for me-”

“I don’t I just-”

“No it’s okay I just want to tell you that because you knew about that stuff. But I’m trying to tell you I’m not the same guy. Not completely, I’m just trying to tell you things changed and so have I.”

It echoes the same sentiment I had earlier in his conversation, and I remember Regan said he’s mellowed out. Maybe it was true. It still didn’t mean I was going to get together with him anytime soon but my heart hurts for him. I walk up to where he sits, he watches me with a steady gaze.

In the quiet, I hear the party going on outside the window, three floors below us. If I listen really carefully, I can hear sounds coming from the video game being played next door. In the stillness, I reach for Harry’s hand and he obliges, grasping mine.

“I wish I could...help you with the hurt. Not knowing where to call home is pretty shitty.”

“Don’t worry about me Y/N,” he pastes on his classic smile and I return one for his sake. It was getting heavy in here. “I’m just happy I got to talk to you. And I just found out you don’t hate me so...” he holds our intertwined hands and shakes it. “woo hoo!” I laugh as we let go.

“I guess I should go back to the party.”

“Yeah, okay. I won’t keep you.”

“Okay,” I’m a little stung he doesn’t suggest I stay a little longer. Maybe it was all in my head, maybe his intentions really were to make amends and that’s it. I pick my drink up from his windowsill and move to the door. I glance back before I go, he’s laying on his bed deep in thought, gazing up at the ceiling. I close the door behind me.

***

I wake the next morning, surprisingly well. I can’t say the same for Gaelle who’d passed me her keys at some point and told me she’d be home late. I spent the rest of the party trailing Regan until I decided I should just go crash. Harry hadn’t come out to find me, and I tried to hide the sour feeling, excusing myself early.

“Fuck me,” Gaelle croaks from her bed when I step into her open doorway.

“How about coffee, and pancakes?” I ask, returning the favor of being able to sleep here.

“I’ll take it,” she flops back into bed. I busy myself with measuring coffee and water, my thoughts occupied with everything Harry and I had been through since we last saw each other. I demonized him for so long, humanizing him is harder to swallow.

What he’d done to me was shitty, there was no denying. But had he really changed? And most importantly, why did I care so much? It’s not like he was the one.

My phone rings: Regan. She’s talking so fast I hardly hear her, only really understand that it was a party ritual to gather in the student centre the morning after a big party. Endless coffee and free food seemed to be the general consensus for a party cure.

“I don’t know if I can make it there,” Gaelle says when I tell her. “I was hoping for pancakes at home.”

“I already put the coffee on but I’m hauling your ass there if you’re not up in 5. Our train leaves after noon anyway and it’s closer to the college.”

Slowly but surely Gaelle emerges and we make our way, spotting Regan easily as the bright spot in a sea of college students in PJs and last night’s clothing. She’s the only one fully dressed, with a full face of makeup on.

“I didn’t drink that much,” she shrugs when we settle around her and Adam’s friends. “Unlike some people.” She looks pointedly at Adam who’s slumped where he sits. I remember the kegger and laugh.

Life soon flows back into the group around us as does the coffee and breakfast foods. I’m relaxed in the environment until I look down the tables to where Harry stands, looking back at me. He raises a hand and I do the same until an extremely tall angel--she was literally wearing a halo, probably from last night-walks up to him and wraps her hands around his waist. She says something to him and he tears his gaze away.

I look down at my cup immediately, my cheeks burning with humiliation. I’d been thinking about him all this time, thinking about how it might feel if I kissed him and of course he had a girlfriend. She never came up, but he never said he didn’t either. He didn’t make any moves on me yesterday, if I looked at it he only made an attempt to talk. Sure he was flirty but that was just Harry and I...I was a fool. I was such a fool. Things may have changed for him but he hadn’t. He was still the same Harry who chose Josslyn over me. He would always have a girlfriend, I was just the girl from his past who he could trust. I couldn’t say the same about him.

“What’s wrong,” my best friend nudges me. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I don’t know,” I look into her concerned eyes. “I’m just going to--I’ll be right back.”

I head out and find the closest washroom. The tears are instant and I let myself cry--out of frustration, humiliation, or some twisted sense of betrayal...it was all the same for me. I check the time, I just had to hold myself together and avoid Harry for another 2 hours before we were back on the train home. I would tell Regan everything then.

*** Three weeks later ***

“If Adam’s over later...” Regan trails off. She’s sprawled on my bed while I sit in my desk chair trying to read one more chapter before I close the books for the week.

“I have my earplugs ready and a second place to stay,” I roll my eyes. “I already told Kiara I might crash on her couch.”

“I owe you,” she jumps back up.

“You owe me like, 7 and a half.”

“7 and a half?”

I’m about to answer but a knock on our door has her racing out. I try to ignore the voices, I just had two more pages I had to get through--the joy of summer classes.

“Y/N?: Regan’s voice is a whisper. “We’re going now but...you have a guest. If you want me to kick his ass I totally can though.”

Standing behind her is Harry. I focus on him, yes it really was him. Why was he here?

“Harry?” I sound confused because I am. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, and he’d traveled 2 hours just to get here.

“He wouldn’t leave me alone,” Adam says louder as they leave the room. “I’m sorry Y/N...”

“What is this?” I ask. My feelings are at war with each other, I was still feeling slighted by the last time we saw each other but seeing his face was also an exciting surprise.

“I wanted to see you,” Harry says nervously. He still stays at my bedroom door.

“You can come in...” I stand up and realize I was wearing an oversize t-shirt and the scruffiest PJ shorts I owned. “Phones have cameras now, you didn’t have to come all this way.”

He shrugs, taking one step in. “I liked seeing you in person last time. But I feel like we left it wrong.”

He knows I saw him, what conclusions I must have come to. It wouldn’t be that hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We talked it out.”

He comes to life, “Don’t play dumb Y/N I know you saw me with...I know what you thought and-”

“Did you really come all this way to explain that you had a girlfriend? Like, three weeks later?”

“No that’s the thing-”

“Because that’s kind of dumb. And unnecessary-”

“No listen!” He says a bit louder so I do. “The thing is she wasn’t my girlfriend...we’d hung out a few times but she saw me at the caf and got clingy. We’re not an item honestly, I can’t remember the last time I had a girlfriend-.”

“So why are you here?” My voice is higher than usual. I was confused, and upset, and I wanted him to leave. This was starting to sound like Josslyn part 2.

“You know why I’m here. Y/N I’ve been nothing but a dick to you and I know I don’t deserve you but I really like you. I want to clear the air, and ask you if you can see something here I...”

He trails off when he notices the tears trailing down my cheek. It’s just too much for me, as I finally face the emotions from that weekend. I’d shoved them aside after Regan had gotten onto the train worried her and Adam were headed towards a breakup. I’d put aside what happened and never thought about it. But my heart broke a little that morning. 

I knew what I knew: maybe Harry and I weren’t good for each other but we were good with each other. In an attempt not to get hurt I’ve been distancing myself from romantic connections--I found more of myself in doing this, but a part of me was missing without exploring it.

Harry moved closer until we’re nearly touching. I wipe my tears with my shoulder and we stand still on the hardwood floors of my room. An eternity passes before he reaches out to wipe the tear caught in my lashes. I close my eyes to his touch, scared of how much I wanted it.

“Y/N,” my name is a breath on his lips and it makes my heart stutter. My eyes open in slow motion, seeing him so vulnerable right in front of me, and suddenly things speed up and we’re reaching for each other; two waves crashing until they become one.

***

I don’t know how much time had passed in minutes, Adam and Regan are still out but Harry and I had fallen together and crashed apart so many times that I’m dizzy with it.

“You’re wonderful,” he says as we face each other, our noses just nearly touching. He trails a finger down my cheek. “Just...incredible.”

I feel the flush spread through me, “Great vocab Styles. We’re really using the big words.”

“Words are sort of hard right now,” he grins. “My brain’s all mush.”

I laugh, “Not much different to its usual state!”

“I knew you were going to say that!” he tries to reach for me but I skip off the bed with a laugh. “Come back.”

“I have to pee,” I slip on pants and can’t stop grinning the whole time I’m away. When I come back in, the blissful smile on his face tells me everything I need to know. I climb over him but he stops me in place, a knee on either side of his hips.

“I’m happiest when I’m with you Y/N,” he says, his voice roughened with emotion. “I think I always was. Younger Harry liked to self-sabotage.”

I bend down and my hair slips around us. The way he looks at me makes my insides mush. And even though I have proof of why I shouldn’t trust him, he’s here. In my bed. Miles away from where he would be if he hadn’t traveled all this way to see me. And that means something.

“I’m glad you’ve done some growing,” I say to him quietly.

“I had to,” he says softly. “I couldn’t have you like I do now if I hadn’t.”

“I guess we’ve both grown,” I brush a curl from his forehead.

“I know, old Y/N would have punched me if I showed up unexpectedly.”

“Rightly so,” I grin. He smiles back, brushing my hair behind my ear, back over my shoulder. He props himself on his elbow to kiss the shoulder he’d bared. It’s simple, and sweet, but it’s enough to unravel me all over again. And he knows it.

“When does Regan get home?”

“We might have another half hour,” I grin.

“Let’s not waste it,” he mumbles into my skin.

I agree.

[nightshade-minho]

-Embers- (1)

warnings: suggestive, future smut, themes of death

wc: 5.3k

teaser 

White specks of paint, scattered across an inky sky - they truly were beautiful. You adjusted yourself on the grassy hill, eyes closing as you tried to calm your nerves. Sighing, you ran your hand over crimson scales, trying to ignore the blinding lights of your village in the distance.

“The stars are beautiful tonight.”

You wished you could stay here forever. Where the only sounds that grace your ears are the deep rumbling snores of the enormous draconian creature you're curled up against. It's a comforting sound, and yet you knew you were going to have to leave soon. Your father would be absolutely enraged if you were late to such an important event- in fact, you were sure he’d have absolutely no qualms killing you in front of the entire village and crowning a broomstick as his heir instead.

Perhaps that's why you delayed the inevitable for a little longer, nuzzling your head against the dragon's hide. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you observed your bustling village from above, frantically getting ready for the festival and the welcoming. People were decorating their houses, painting murals onto their walls and making sure everything was perfect for the guests that would arrive tonight.

The streets were lit up with lanterns, and the people milling about outside their houses were dressed up in their best. The excitement in the atmosphere was palpable, and you could almost feel it from atop the hill.

Sighing, you looked to the side, your eyes meeting enormous yellow ones.

“Aeracus...I know what you’re thinking.” You sighed and curled up your knees to your chest. “And you’re right. I’m nervous, but also excited. I can’t believe we’re going to be seeing him again after all these years. Can you?”

The dragon slowly shook his head from side to side, and you chuckled. “Do you think he’s changed? Or do you think he’s still a feline-obsessed asshole?” You smiled, his laughter ringing in your ears as you reminisced.

Slowly though, the good memories bled into terrible ones. Loss and pain, mingling in your heart and taking over your emotions. The smile disappeared from your face as you remembered what had happened. The reason he left. The reason you weren’t allowed to participate in the championships that were to be a part of the festival’s celebrations...the reason the whole village considered you an outcast, despite being the chief’s daughter.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing your hair back as you slowly stood up, dusting off your tunic. You pressed a kiss to the dragon’s neck, sighing.

“I’m going to go, Aeracus. Honestly, you should be grateful you don’t have to partake in these events.”

The dragon let out a disapproving rumble at that, and your face softened. That was a low blow. After all, it wasn’t his fault that he was forced to to refrain from joining his fellow dragons in the games. No, the blame was to be shared between you and Minho.

The felicity in your heart was intertwined with a faint sense of lingering sorrow. It happened so many years ago, and yet the echoes were still fresh in your mind...

You couldn’t deny that you were desperate to see him again. In fact, saying you were desperate would probably be an understatement. You were thrilled, electrified- and yet, oh so anxious.

You clenched your fists, taking in a deep breath and starting to descend the hill. You’d put it off for long enough.

***

“Children, listen carefully, now.”

The boy next to you didn’t heed the elder’s warning, continuing to draw on the back of his hand.

“Minho! Pay attention, or I will have to call your father.”

Minho looked up, scowling. He placed the chalk down and pursed his lips, directing his attention towards the clay figurines that were laid out in front of the elderly woman. You, as well as the 10 other kids in the cottage, were fascinated by the story being told. The woman was teaching you about your culture, the information you needed to know regarding the upcoming ceremony. It was important, and yet Minho couldn’t bring himself to care. He liked cats more than dragons anyway.

“As I was saying.” She cleared her throat, resuming her lesson.

“Now that you children are 13, you are no longer babies. Certain things are expected of you. You have embarked on your journey to adulthood...and thus, there are certain things you must know. The elements of our village, for one.”

She gestured to the figurines on the dirt floor in front of her. “As you all already know, there are four elements.” She pointed to a spiky pyramid, and then to a smooth sphere. “Ember, Aqua...” Her fingers moved to the next pair- a rough cube and a glassy cone. “...Terra and Aer. These are the symbols of the elements. Of course, you all have already seen the life-sized versions of these in our square.”

Eager nods, making her continue with a pleased smile.

“Every dragon on this planet has a corresponding element that they have control over. They possess immense power, and the ability to command these elements.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Hm, maybe this wasn’t as lame as he’d thought it would be..

“I’m sure you children have seen your parents, older friends and relatives with their dragons.” There was a chorus of agreement, and the woman nodded.

“Well, from next week onwards, you will each have your own dragons. Through the ceremony, you will all be assigned a hatchling, with which you will spend the rest of your life.”

Minho hummed in curiosity as the woman dismissed the class. “Good luck, loves. Remember, there will be a few more classes to brief you further.”

The others started filing out slowly as you turned to Minho. “Isn’t this exciting?” You tilted your head, running your eyes over the figurines. “Since my family are all fire elementals, do you think I’ll get an ember dragon?”

“I don’t think it works that way. My father said it doesn’t matter what family you come from, the dragon you get matched with can be of any element, apparently. Though it hasn’t ever happened yet.” He shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He yawned. “I already knew everything she said. I could have used this valuable time for something else.” He was lying, to be honest. The only thing he knew about dragons was what he’d just told you.  

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Do you wanna go to the lake?”

You grinned. “Sure, let’s!” You nodded in agreement as Minho stood up eagerly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the cottage. You giggled as he dragged you. “Hey, slow down! Also, we can’t be there for long. We’ve got to be home for that joint dinner, or our fathers will be very mad.”

“Eh, they’d barely notice if we’re gone. When discussing village matters, they don’t give a fuck about their own children, even.” He muttered bitterly.

“Well...that is true.” You sighed as Minho pulled you all the way to the lake, weaving past the villagers, even bumping into some of them. A few of them frowned and made shouts of displeasure, while others didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe they did, and was just too afraid to voice their anger towards the chiefs’ children.

The cottages start becoming more sparse, the trees more tightly clustered. Minho held your hand tightly as you made your way through the woods. Finally, the two of you reached the clearing.

Letting go of your hand gently, Minho sat at the edge of the lake, beckoning you over to sit next to him.

“I wish this place wasn’t so far away from the village.” You sighed, legs aching as you flopped down onto the grass.

Minho shook his head slowly, his fingers fiddling with a tiny dandelion he’d pulled out. “The further away, the better.” He grumbled, blowing on it and watching as the seeds floated in the breeze.

You sighed. There it was, again. You knew better than to oppose him, so you hummed, scooting a little closer and placing your hand on top of his. “I know you want to leave this place. I know you want to...to explore the world. I just want you to know that whatever you decide to do, I’ll be by your side.” You said honestly.

Minho looked up at you. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

He felt like there was a lump in his throat. Minho knew how much this village and its culture meant to you. You were really willing to do that for him? Leave, and never come back?

“Listen here, Miss L/n.” He turned to you, inhaling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips soft as they brushed against your skin. You blushed, staring at him with wide eyes as he spoke.

“I’m the one who’s going to be making the sacrifices here, alright? I’m older than you, remember? I call the shots.” He chuckled, booping your nose. 

“I love you so much, star.”

You cringed at the nickname, shoving him away. “Stop calling me that, you sound like a character in one of Mr Yang’s cheesy novels.”

He smirked at that. “I’ll never stop calling you that. You’re my star, cause you light up my world and guide me when everything’s dark.” He reasoned, laughing and throwing his head back as he watched you wrinkle your nose in disgust, looking a little like a bunny.

Humming, Minho lay back on the grass, and you followed suit after a minute of hesitation.

“I don’t mind you calling me that. Just don’t do it in front of people.”

“Okay, I won’t. It’s just us all the time, anyway...”

The two of you stared up at the sky, listening to the calm sounds of frogs ribbiting, birds chirping, and the splashing sounds of the fish in the lake. Above it all though, was the sound of your heart, beating persistently as Minho’s fingers creeped closer to yours, intertwining your hands.

“It’s always us...”

***

Your father had explained to you that since your family consisted entirely of ember elementals, your dragon would be of the same kind as well. This went against what Minho had told you before, and your mind was swimming with all the different information you were receiving.

“But...Minho said it doesn’t work that way.”

He sat on his armchair, chewing on  a chicken leg as he raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well, he’s wrong.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s never happened in centuries, and it’s not gonna happen now. You’re an Ember, through and through.”

You purse your lips. “Well, you’re always right, Father.”

He nodded, not picking up on the snark your sentence was dripping with. "The bond you share with your dragon is one that can never be replicated. You choose it, and it chooses you. It is truly a beautiful process, a spectacle to behold. Every single villager will be watching, so you better hold your head high. Make me proud."

You were about to reply when you heard a knock on your door. Glancing at your father for permission, you stood up. heading through the long hallway to open the front door.

“Minho?”

You looked at him, tilting your head at his troubled expression. “What’s up?

“I came to give you these.” He said softly, looking around before showing you the fiery petals in his palms. “I borrowed a herbology book from the library a few months ago, and learnt how to grow these. Ignis flowers. They’re symbols of good luck, apparently.”

He took your hand, placing the petals on your palm. “They reminded me of you.”

Your eyes widened slowly. “Wow...Minho, I didn’t get you anything...” You said guiltily, humming when Minho gently pulled you into a hug.

“You don’t have to. I’ve got to go home, now. See you tomorrow!”

You nodded, the petals safe in your hands as he left hurriedly. You watched him head to his house, opposite to yours.

After he left, you were about to head to bed when your father asked you to stay back. Confused, you went over to sit in front of him, tilting your head in confusion.

“Who was at the door?”

“It was just Minho.” You shrugged, eyeing your father as he groaned, massaging his forehead. He looked like he was contemplating something, his wrinkles seeming especially prominent.

"Child, be wary of your...friend."

"Friend...?" You knew he meant Minho. You'd never heard him address him in that manner though - void of affection.

Minho's father and yours were co-chiefs of the village, best friends since birth. He’d always treated Minho like his own son. What had brought on this sudden hostility?

He noticed the expression on your face, sighing and patting your shoulder. "I'm just asking you to be careful, dear. There is talk of the Aer elementals gaining power at an accelerated rate these days. Aer dragons are growing up to be stronger, even more so than our Ember ones. It's truly a strange phenomenon. I do not want to be one of these people who is suspicious of everything and everyone...but both the kid and his father have changed. Even I can't deny that."

You swallowed at his words, watching as his face drifted off, deep in thought. You'd heard of it too- hushed whispers claiming that a single chief would be preferable for the village. And if your father's hunch was right...no, you didn't want to think about it.

Minho wouldn't ever betray you. You'd known him since before you could talk. you’d build up a lot of trust in each other over the years. There was no one else you knew as well. If you couldn’t trust him, who could?

No. He would never hurt you. You were sure of it.

***

The whole village was buzzing for weeks after the ceremony took place. They simply couldn't understand what had happened. It was unprecedented- and the news spread like wildfire.

You were matched with a majestic Aer creature, and Minho a beautiful crimson beast of Ember. Mistakes weren't possible- the process was never questioned- but that didn't mean people weren't bewildered.

For centuries, no one had managed to match with a dragon that controlled an element that differed from theirs.

Neither of you could understand why your fathers and the villagers were so perplexed, though. Was it really as big of a deal as they made it seem?

"I don't get it. Why is it such a humongous problem? They’re just dragons. What’s the need for all this drama?" Minho rolled his eyes as he spoke.

You stroked your dragon's neck slowly as you watched him, huffing and ranting away. ‘Just dragons.’ There was a part of you that understood all the hubbub. The people loved gossip- especially if it involved the chiefs.

"It really isn't. They're both so beautiful, I don't really care what element they control."

You looked at your dragon, curled next to you. You wouldn't admit it, but she looked a little too beautiful- almost to the point where it intimidated you.

Translucent, white scales that reflected rainbows of light...long, beautiful almond shaped eyes that were the color of the ocean. She was larger and brighter than Minho's dragon as well. Your father had been right...the Aer dragons were evolving quicker, somehow.

She was quiet and regal, her sleek body elegant and her demeanor refined. You didn’t really have much in common, to be honest. You’d named her Caeli- a name that wasn’t really all that creative, but it would do. Besides, it seemed to fit.

Minho looked at you, sighing slowly. "Aeracus seems hungry. Father will be expecting me soon anyway, I think I'll go home now, Y/n."

"Bye, Min."

He shot you a dashing grin before standing up, climbing his dragon.

As they left, a great whoosh of wind rustling your hair, you looked up at your dragon. She was staring at the water, her eyes narrowed.

You were starting to feel a little worried. You couldn’t exactly...hear her thoughts. She seemed too closed off, barely even looking at you as she blankly watched the frogs jump from one lilypad to the other. You didn’t feel that special bond everyone had been talking about for years, insisting to you that it would be a connection so profound you wouldn’t be able to live without it.

Did she not like you? You looked so average next to her ethereality, drab and plain as opposed to her stunning beauty.

You couldn’t blame her, really.

***

When Minho stood next to your dragon, the sight somehow made more sense. He was  beautiful, and so was the creature next to him. They fit together perfectly.

Aeracus on the other hand, was slightly more average. He was majestic as well, but not on the same level as Caeli. You felt more at home riding him, somehow. Like...he was the one that was meant to be yours.

Of course, you wouldn’t ever tell anyone about this. It could be considered infidelity, even. Your father was disappointed enough in you as it was. Four years of training with Caeli, and you still weren’t able to channel her power into...anything. She just wouldn’t co-operate.

"There you go..." He finished slipping the harness onto Caeli, dusting off his hands as he came back over to you, giggling as Aeracus rubbed his big head against your side.

Minho raised his eyebrows at the display of affection. Aeracus was never that amicable to him. Yes, he listened to him...but that was about it. And yet, to you...he always noticed how the two of you seemed to have some sort of connection. He’d mentioned this to his father once, only to be called ridiculous.

Then again, he couldn’t blame the dragon for having a soft spot for you. Who wouldn’t?

“Hey...” He looked down at you as the dragon pulled away, ambling off to Caeli’s side. You glanced up slowly when Minho cleared his throat, leaning in a little as his fingers ran through your tresses. Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening slightly at his touch.

"A leaf. In your hair." He mumbled, throwing said leaf onto the ground as he stared into your eyes.

Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest as your gaze ran over his features, so close to your face. Fuck, he was so deathly handsome, even more so now that you were both almost adults. Puberty had treated him well.

A little too well.

The girls in the square swooning over Minho became a regular occurrence now. You couldn't even seem to go anywhere with your best friend, without having a mob of fangirls following closely.

When he was this close to you, it became overwhelmingly evident why his fans were so enamored by him. Lee Minho really was beautiful.

"Careful, a fly might make its nest in your mouth." He chuckled. "What's up, kitten? You look on edge."

That was the other thing. His latest habit of calling you pet names- the likes of which included princess and kitten- had come out of nowhere. He really seemed to enjoy making you blush. At times like this, you wished he would have just stuck with ‘star’.

“Nothing.” You stuttered, avoiding his eyes and choosing to focus your stare on the ground. Minho wasn’t in the mood for your shyness, though. He placed his finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

“You sure about that? Is there a reason you look so flustered right now?” He breathed, leaning in closer until your noses were brushing.

Oh, fuck you, Lee.

You'd always thought Minho was attractive. Of course. You'd be blind not to notice. And yet, at this proximity, you felt like you haven’t ever truly appreciated just how fucking hot the man in front of you was.

And so you did something you never thought you’d have the courage to do.

Leaning in, you closed the distance between the two of you, lips crashing against his. To Minho’s credit, he wasn’t all that shocked. Smirking against you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer, gluing your body to his.

Backing you up against a tree, Minho was quick to lift your thigh, slotting your hips together as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip.

A groan left you as he slid his hand under your shirt, pulling away to stare at you, the sight of your swollen lips affecting him in ways he couldn’t quite describe.

“What...what did we just-”

He shut you up with another kiss, rougher than the last one. Breathless pecks, desperately claiming you with his lips as he pressed himself against you.

“Just go with the flow, baby.”

And so you did.

***

As you carefully made your way down, your mind was racing with a million thoughts. The thought of seeing your boyfriend again after so many years scared you as much as it excited you. After all...it wasn’t like you parted on good terms.

You still remembered the heartbroken look on his face, the last time you saw him. You couldn’t tell him that you’d tried everything, tried your best to reason with your father who simply refused to budge. He’d expected you to do something more...but what?

It wasn’t his fault. It was a fucking accident, and yet he’d had to take the blame.

Deep down, though, you knew what your father’s real intentions had been when he banished Minho and his father from the village. Of course, Caeli’s death had shaken him- the entire village had been in a state of shock. The death of a dragon was the most tragic event that could possibly befall a village. And when said dragon happened to belong to the chief’s daughter? Shattering.

At the end of the day though, it was a convenient incident...one that happened to take place just as your father’s status was being questioned. A blessing in disguise, for him.

“It’s okay, my child. Yes, you suffered a great loss, but I know you weren’t that close to it. We must move on. On the bright side, you can focus on your studies now! Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted to do?”

You scoffed, his words repeating themselves in your brain. Bullshit. There was no bright side, nor would there ever be one without Minho in your life.

***

“There you are. Where were you?"

"I...was with Aeracus." You didn't see the point in lying. Your brain was too tired to come up with a believable fabrication anyway.

As expected, his face screwed up in anger as he glared, standing up.

"Why?" He hissed. "Let me remind you he is not your dragon. How many times have I told you not to get too close to it?"

"Aeracus and I have a bond." You mumbled.

"No. You don't. A bond is forged between a dragon and its owner by forces beyond our control. This measly 'friendship', if you can even call it that, is trivial. At the end of the day, it doesn't really belong to you. It belongs to the boy who betrayed you."

You couldn't bring yourself to react any more. Your father was old-fashioned, his opinions set in stone. ‘Betrayed’. You wanted to scoff.

You turned around without a word, heading for your room. There was no energy left in your body, yet the exhaustion was overpowered by your emotions.

"Y/n, wait."

You stopped, turning and looking at him. "What?"

"Your maids are waiting to dress you. Don't argue with them. You are to wear the outfit I picked out for you. Today's dinner is extremely important." He paused. "And...what I said before still stands. The dragon won't hesitate to betray you, especially now that his true owner is coming back. Be...be careful." Your father said quietly, his face softening.

You sighed. "I will be."

"Good."

He dismissed you. You heaved a sigh of relief under your breath and headed out, opening the door to your own room.

You would never admit this to your father, but as nervous as you were, you were secretly looking forward to the dinner. To see him again.

If you closed your eyes and immersed yourself deep enough into your imagination, you could still feel his touch ghosting along your thighs. His soft lips, pressing against yours.

You missed his voice, his tight hugs...you missed everything about him. You'd only ever felt safe in his arms.

The loneliness and pain had consumed you when he left. Maybe that's why you latched on to Aeracus, the last remnant of Minho in this village that seemed so much more dreary without his presence.

"Miss Y/n! We have no time to lose." Your head maid scurried about your room with two others, spreading out your dress on your bed. One of the maids- Sylvia, you think her name was- snuck up behind you and began undressing you. Yes, you were used to this, but the layer of urgency in the atmosphere was a lot more profound tonight.

The entire village was on edge, and you couldn’t really blame them. The first Elemental Championships, and they were being hosted at your village. The exhilaration was understandable...you couldn't bring yourself to feel the same way, though. Maybe if you were actually participating, you’d feel different.

You looked at the dress the maid was holding onto, initially without much interest...but your eyes widened when it came into view.

It was beautiful, yet simple...the color of spun gold, with tiny rubies clustered at the bodice. The sleeves fell of the shoulders delicately, and the material was diaphanous, the texture rich.

“Wow....Sylvia, you made this?”

“I did. It took me a year.” She smiled widely, your grin satisfying her. “Do you really like it, Miss Y/n?” There was a hopeful lilt to her voice, and your grin grew wider as they started helping you into it.

“Like it? I love it! You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

She nodded in content, lacing up the back as the other maids began on your makeup. Usually, you didn’t like being treated as a doll, your servants fussing over you and your appearance. Today, though...

You could barely believe the reflection you were seeing in the mirror belonged to you. You'd never felt so glamorous before. 

“You look beautiful, Miss.” Sylvia said softly, adjusting your sleeves.

You couldn’t wait for Minho to see you in this dress.

“Ann?” Another servant’s head appeared around the corner. “It’s time. They will arrive any moment now.”

A flurry of anxious noises and exclamations filled the room as they worked on you faster. You took a deep breath in, your mind blank and full of thoughts at the same time.

***

You stood next to your father, hands clasped in front of you. Surreptitiously, you raised your hand to your forehead, wiping away a few drops of perspiration. It was happening, you were finally going to see Minho again. And if your father successfully manages to make amends with his- fuck, you were grinning just thinking about it. 

The villagers standing behind you were all dressed in their best as well, and the lanterns shone brightly, washing over everything. The air was sparkling, the atmosphere charged with electricity. Everyone had their eyes trained on the sky, waiting for Minho’s people. The two other villages were to come tomorrow, according to the letters.

Four villages. All competing in the championship yours was hosting. It was nerve-wracking, the amount of people who would be crammed into your village, which was big enough, really- possibly the largest in the country- it still stressed you out, though. Since there weren’t enough guest houses to fit everyone, a lot of the visitors would be staying with your villagers, the chiefs and their families staying at your house. You were keenly aware of the fact that this meant Minho would be in the same living quarters as you. Your heart pounded at the prospect.

Later in the night, you were planning to sneak into his room, since you obviously wouldn’t be allowed to talk to him during the dinner. At least, you wouldn’t be able to communicate the things you so desperately wanted to say to him. Every part of you tingled as you thought about what you’d say to him. 

You felt light as a feather as you stared at the starry sky, eyes widening slightly as you spotted the thousands of dots in the distance, flying closer. Anticipation and exhilaration mingled in you as you waited for them to arrive. Just the thought of feeling Minho pressed up against you again, whispering in your ear how much he loved you...it made you want to cry, almost. You’d waited for this moment for too long.

The conch shell was blown as they reached the edge of the forest. More than a thousand dragons, covered in finery, just like their riders.

Hmm. There were a lot more than you expected. You’d only been anticipating about a hundred, since it was only Minho’s village that was coming tonight. Or so you’d thought...

You turned your head to look at your father, letting the confusion show on your face. Noticing your expression, he shrugged. “It looks like all three decided to come tonight.”

You frowned, looking back at the dragons that were at the border now, preparing for landing. That was weird.

You observed the dragons that had landed, your eyebrows furrowing. Huh.

The three dragons at the front were a lot bulkier than the ones in the back. Darker colors, almost hulking muscles and narrow eyes. They looked like no dragon you’d ever seen before. The sight was almost unsettling. You felt a faint sense of dread spreading over you, a feeling you tried to push away as your eyes searched each dragon’s back for Minho.

You recognized Minho’s father right away. He was at the very front, along with two other old men on a green and blue dragon respectively, that you realized were the chiefs of the other two villages. Surprisingly though, Minho wasn’t sat behind him. You’d assumed it to be that way...after all, Minho’s dragon was still here. So where was he? Your eyebrows furrowed, not wanting to assume the worst right away. You wildly looked over them all, craning your neck slightly. You didn’t want to seem too eager, but it’s not like you could help yourself. Could anyone blame you? Here you were, about to meet the first and only person you’d ever fallen in love with, after years of yearning and loneliness.

As your father stepped forward, a smile on his face to greet the chiefs, you finally saw him.

For a minute, it was like you couldn’t breathe. He looked as beautiful as ever, his feline eyes twinkling, his dark hair exposing part of his smooth forehead. His hands gripped the reins so tightly his knuckles were white, and the way he sat on his dragon was regal, his expression confident and filled with determination. He was older, and somehow even more handsome than the last time you saw him. You didn’t even think that was possible.

You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat as his eyes finally met yours.

It was like time had ceased for a minute. You smiled slowly, happy tears pricking at your eyes as you took in his face.

He didn’t smile back.

And that’s when you noticed the pale arms wrapped around his waist. Confused, you watched as the chiefs dismounted the dragons, along with their heirs. Minho alighted from the dragon, helping down the woman who had been holding onto him. He held her hands gently, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

You felt like your whole world had collapsed, bile rising in your throat as you watched her giggle. You noticed she was dressed in blue, her clothing that of a heiress. As they approached, your eyes fell on the sparkling ring on her finger...one that matched Minho’s.

When his eyes looked into yours again, they were cold, just like your heart.

[vs-redemption]

I JUST CAME UP WITH THE CUTEST THING EVER!

Okok so UA prom night. Bakugou and reader have had secret crushes on each other but like it’s obvious to everyone except each other. Prom is prince/princess themed ok? Everyone goes in groups rather than singles bc no one wants to be left out right?

Bakugou and Reader are crowned prom king and queen!!! And they get their own dance while everyone watches — the song is the Beauty and the beast (a perfect fit for the two). And I think it’s adorable and maybe maybe they kiss 🤭

-🐱❤️

From Cindy: Okay so... lol inspiration for this suddenly smacked me in the brain and it ended up being so long (1,761 words). I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t stop. I had so much fun writing this so thank you 🐱 anon for another great idea.

Prom (Bakugo x Fem!Reader)

When your friends decided to attend your senior prom as a group rather than go through the trouble of finding dates, it was both a blessing and a curse for you. On the one hand, going with the social circle that you’d spent every moment of your high school years with provided the guarantee that you’d have a good time at the prince and princess themed dance no matter what. Plus, you wouldn’t end up in the awkward situation of either being rejected or getting stuck trying to make conversation with a single person the entire night. The downside though was that you had a very specific person in mind who you’d been dreaming of going to prom with ever since he’d caught your eye during the entrance exam to get into UA.

That person was Katsuki Bakugo.

It wasn’t as if you thought you had a chance with the explosive boy in question. He was in the same class as you after all, and although you had formed a weird sort of friendship over the years, he’d never shown any signs that he might return your feelings. And boy, did you have feelings. Through all the intense hero trainings and group study sessions, you’d really been able to get to know the ins and outs of his personality. You knew Bakugo came across as arrogant and abrasive at first glance, but somehow you’d never been able to see him that way. In your eyes, he was the most hardworking and passionate student in the whole school. You couldn’t help but admire how confident he was in his own strength and determination. Ever since his admittedly wild behavior during the sports festival in your first year, people had doubted his choice to pursue a career as a hero and criticized the way he interacted with other people. Never once did he waver in his goal though. He just continued to blaze forward, studying and training hard with that same unwavering persistence that you both loved and envied.

“You look amazing in that dress!” Mina winks and throws you a thumbs up as you all crowd in the dormitory bathroom to help each other get ready.

“Yellow really is your color,” Momo agrees with a smile. “People might actually mistake you for a real princess.”

“Stop!” You were blushing a little from all the attention and from the way your thoughts ran wild with fantasies of Bakugo finally noticing you as more than just a fellow hero course student. “We’re all going to look amazing tonight.”

“Good,” Hagakure chimes in, her pink dress fluttering around her invisible body as she twirled in front of the mirror. “We can’t make it too easy for the judges to pick the prom king and queen!”

Once everyone was ready, the group made their way down to the common room where all the boys were waiting. They all looked handsome and uncharacteristically dressed up in their suits, but you only had eyes for one of them. It was almost unfair how good Bakugo looked. His spikey blonde hair and fiery red eyes were already enough to give you butterflies, but the way his dark blue suit jacket fit perfectly over his broad shoulders and tapered down to show off his narrow waist had you feeling even more flustered.

“You idiots finally ready?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets casually. You couldn’t help but smile, remembering the way he’d carried on about dances being lame and how there was no way he’d go. You knew from the start that it was all talk. There was no way he would’ve allowed himself to disappoint his friends like that. He cared about all of them more than he’d ever admit.

The dance coordinators at the school had gone above and beyond when decorating the gymnasium which now looked like a scene out of a fairytale. Everywhere you looked had twinkling lights and cutouts of castle towers and horse drawn carriages. You and your friends made your way inside, smiling and waving to familiar faces from other classes and taking in the atmosphere created by the lighting and music. Finally, you noticed the platform set up in the back of the room where two empty thrones sat for the prom king and queen.

“All right! I’m ready to dance now!” Mina cheers once most students had arrived and the DJ, also known as Present Mic, had started to play more upbeat music. You followed her and the rest of the group to the center of the room and jumped right into the action. Time passed quickly as you got lost in the music and dancing, taking breaks every now and then to get something to drink and rehydrate. Never once though did you lose track of Bakugo’s presence. Whether he was on the dance floor, or off to the side talking to one of the others, you always seemed to know where he was like there was some sort of magnetic pull. It didn’t stop you from having a good time, but it made you wonder how much more magical the night would be if you could just steal even a single moment alone with him.

“All right! It’s that time of the night kids!” Present Mic announces later in the evening. “It’s time to announce this year’s prom king and queen!”

The room quiets down and everyone huddles together, feeling the building anticipation over the big reveal. You knew it was only the popular and good looking people that usually got chosen, but you were still excited, hoping that someone from your class might get the chance to wear the symbolic crown or tiara. Present Mic holds up a note that he must’ve gotten from one of the judges and looks down to read the names.

“And the results are in!” he says overdramatically, “Everyone give it up for your king and queen.”

The first name to come tumbling out of the man’s mouth was Bakugo’s, making you freeze up a bit and turn to look at him in shock. Of course he deserved it, but you couldn’t help but feel jealous already of the girl that would get to have the one on one dance with him after being crowned. The noise in the room seemed to fade out as you watched your crush turn and start walking right toward you, suddenly offering you his hand.

“Wh-what?” You didn’t understand, especially since the rest of the girls were suddenly squealing in your ear and patting you on the back.

“He just called both our names, dummy,” the insult comes out as a term of endearment which was normal for Bakugo, but the slight pink blush covering his cheeks was definitely new. He takes your hand into his and you awkwardly follow him up to the platform almost in a daze. You hadn’t even heard Present Mic call your name, but suddenly he was placing a glittery tiara on top of your head and a crown on top of Bakugo’s.

“Are you two ready for your dance?” the teacher asks. Truthfully you weren’t but you find yourself nodding anyway, your mind still trying to catch up with your body.

“You all right?” Bakugo asks, sounding just as uncomfortable as he pulls you into the middle of the room which was now clear of people. You were kind of surprised he was going along with all of this so easily, but before you could think about it any further “tale as old as time” starts to play over the sound system causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. You nod wordlessly again, answering his question. Suddenly he’s pulling you closer, one hand holding your own and the other sliding cautiously to the middle of your back.

For a moment, you are way too caught up with wondering how you’d ended up in such a situation to actually enjoy the way Bakugo starts to gently sway you back and forth to the music. A quick squeeze to your combined hands forces you back to the present and you look up at him nervously. “There you are, princess,” he lets out a short laugh. “I was starting to get worried for a second.”

“P-princess?” You stutter out the nickname. Bakugo’s confidence slips for a second and he averts his eyes, the pink on his cheeks becoming more pronounced.

“Well… it fits the situation, doesn’t it?” he mumbles before glancing up. “We’re royalty now.” Some of the tension leaves your body at his predictable behavior and you let out a small laugh.

“Only for tonight,” You point out, your lips forming a sad smile as you both continue to move across the floor to the music.

“It… uh… it doesn’t have to be,” he blurts out, his eyes continuing to look down.

“What do you mean?” your question comes out sounding breathless and the intensity of his gaze when it meets yours makes your stomach do a flip.

“I mean, this is kind of how I originally pictured prom to go before all those idiots suggested coming as a group.” He was still mumbling a bit but you heard every word.

“You were going to ask me to be your date?” You ask, your voice laced with shock and disbelief. He swallows thickly and then nods his head. The simple gesture fills your heart with happiness and you lean closer into him and tuck your head into his chest. All too soon, the song comes to an end and you’re forced to pull away. You don’t get too far before Bakugo is tugging you back and pressing a warm kiss to your cheek.

“If it’s all right with you,” he says softly while lifting up your hand in his, “I’d like to hold onto this for a little while.” You smile happily and lean forward to return his kiss.

“Bakugo, you can hold onto it for as long as you like,” you tell him honestly. His eyes light up at your words and he looks very much like the prince you had always imagined him to be.

After a moment, a new song began to play and the dance floor filled up with students again. You and Bakugo go back up to the platform to sit in your designated thrones while all your friends crowd around the two of you, congratulating and teasing you both. Surrounded by your closest friends with Bakugo’s hand clutched firmly in your own, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect ending to your prom night fairytale.

[ayzrules]

✶ 𝐇𝐗𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒: 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 & 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 & 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   Long story short, I have been thinking about this for wayyyyy too long now and wanted to get some ~thoughts~ & analysis written down! This post is going to be...fairly long, lol. Apologies in advance :D

  Also, if you can’t see the last gif (the one for ‘holy’), click here. Tumblr keeps fucking up the image when i try to upload it :////

  This post is probably going to be about 2/3 yorknew & phantom troupe/kurapika focused, 1/3 chimera ants, maybe with some references to other arcs (including manga-only arcs) mixed in. so, ofc, tons of spoilers ahead! also, i realize that my blog theme is hard to read (and i’m p sure clicking ‘keep reading’ sends you to the og post itself), so i’m linking the post w/ full text copy/pasted in on my art backup side blog (which has a more legible font) here. 

✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇   I’m sure absolutely nobody is surprised with me starting here - there is just. SO. MUCH. DEATH. in hxh. & right from the start, one thing I noticed that togashi really emphasized was the #4 and its connection to death. in japanese, chinese, and im p sure some other asian cultures the number 4 is pronounced like the word for death so it’s associated with death in general, and boy oh boy does the ‘deadly number 4′ thing show up E V E R Y W H E R E. we get to the hunter exam, and hisoka is applicant #44. kurapika is #404. i didn’t notice it at first, but this was so intentional holy shit. togashi is NOT SUBTLE.

  So pika & hisoka are, right off the bat, associated with death. okay. and then there are even more clues to drive the point home: hisoka is member #4 in the phantom troupe, kurapika’s birthday is april 4th (aka 4/4). 100% not a coincidence (!!). with hisoka, it’s pretty obvious why togashi’s throwing all this death 444444 stuff around - dude is a psycho murder pedo clown, literally gets off on killing people (and there’s also the fact that judas sits 4th from the left in the last supper painting, and he’s sort of the judas equivalent for the phantom troupe). with kurapika, though, it’s a bit more subtle and woven deeper into his characterization, which i LOVE. togashi puts the mans in blue & gold & white (traditionally ‘pure’ or ‘heavenly’ colors), makes him so fucking kind & so good-hearted.....when he’s not relentlessly pursuing his revenge, ofc. more on this in the next section, but pika = death. togashi has made that v v v clear.

  Backtracking a bit to hisoka, though, I also just wanted to point out the 4 is death symbolism in the fortunes too (GOD i love the fortunes): in one translation, he’s the false fourth moon, and in the og japanese (i think), he’s the false hare (4th in the lunar zodiac or w/e it’s called. i don’t know the japanese cultural influences here, but in the chinese legend that established the zodiac animals, they race across the heavenly river & the top 12 animals got zodiac slots. the hare finished 4th, so it’s #4 in the cycle). 

  And just as a final note, Tserriednich is the fourth prince of the kakin empire, and also another dude who has a hard-on for murder & other gory shit. again: togashi is not subtle with this, lmfao

✶ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘, 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘   As probably everyone who’s gotten to yorknew knows, togashi is so 0 fucks given when he wants to be. I mean there’s the whole thing where he just. took New York and decided, Yorknew. LMFAO, but also, he made the main antag of that arc be named chrollo lucilfer, sit around in a ruined church, have a reversed cross coat, pale & dark-haired/dark-eyed, generally dressed in dark colors, very terrible murder guy. liiiike......chrollo x devil symbolism game is 1000/10 at this point lmaooo

  And i know absolutely nothing about christianity in general, but pt/kurapika & yorknew arc is just so full of christian imagery/symbolism! one thing that i L O O O O O O V E though is how togashi really blurs the traditional christian-coded good/evil, holy/damned boundaries.

  Back to kurapika: he wears gold and blue, his coloring is very stereotypically ‘angelic’, he’s precious and good and kind. his chains are all about ~judgment~ and ~healing~ - some of the chains are also in literal cross shapes, aren’t they? And the chain dagger in his own heart...the imagery is very startlingly similar to the immaculate heart of mary, where the swords stabbing thru the heart apparently represent seven sorrows. IDK much about this stuff other than the visual similarities; literally had to google ‘daggers through heart christianity?’ to even get the name of that thing LOL. anyway, at first, it seems like togashi establishes him as the ‘angel’, the ‘good’, the ‘holy’ in the angel/devil, good/evil, holy/damned dichotomy between him and chrollo.

  But that’s not the end of the story. his entire storyline is driven by a huuuuuuuge giant desire for vengeance, first of all, and then there’s the scarlet eyes, which canonically are seen as demonic/cursed/what have you (according to one of the movies or smth? where they show pika as a 10 y/o?), and then we also have red eyes in modern culture being associated w pretty much the same thing (vampires, anyone?). the fight scene with uvo has everything in b&w besides the blood on his face & his red eyes & the moon (<<< more fortune foreshadowing & symbolism, i love to see it), and there are tonssss of scenes where he has to suppress his rage. so all of that is obviously not very angelic of him i would say LOL. in fact, what i find super interesting is that the scarlet/red eyes (which are ‘demonic’) is actually the driving factor behind his super powerful nen abilities; this ties in so well with the fortunes & death associations imo! the fortunes call him the ‘death-bringer’ in one translation, or ‘half-angel, half-death’, so that’s one side of pika = red eyes = death, but there’s also the fact that emperor time is literally draining his life force. so pika = death for both himself and others namely the pt, question mark?

  Now for chrollo: togashi’s devil symbolism is EXTREMELY overt with him, but i love the subtler jesus references too. the church thing, obviously, and the st. peters cross which is cuz st peter respected jesus too much & didn’t think he was worthy to die in the same way as him (or something like that, i am the most atheist person in the world & hxh is literally my entire christian education pls) but is also used as an anti-christianity symbol these days. bandit’s secret looks like a bible, lbr, and mans has a cross tattoo.

  Other things beyond visuals - 12 spiders, 12 apostles; hisoka’s betrayal, where member #4 can be thought to correspond to judas sitting 4th from left at last supper. and this miiiiight be a bit of a stretch, but i think the meteor city being the place of origin may also play into the blurred line between angel/devil and holy/damned here; meteors are defined as space rocks that are in earth’s atmosphere, becoming incandescent in the process. meteorites are for the kinds that actually reach the ground. and idk, lucifer was cast out of heaven / sky too right? so i think there might be some subtle fallen angel imagery/symbolism playing into the pt as well

✶ 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒)   Last section yay! i don’t have as much to say about this, besides when i was making chimera ant arc edits & realized that there might have been some subtle gon/meruem parallels???

  So obviously, everyone knows that line killua says to gon - “you are light” - and then i was just remembering that meruem’s name means.... “light that illuminates all” (!!!!). maybe it’s a coincidence, but knowing togashi, i’m leaning towards nahhhh. there HAS TO be some kinda meaning there (!!).

  Going back to the events of the chimera ant arc....ooh boy. let’s see: gon is optimistic & hopeful even in the face of kite potentially being dead, killua says he’s light, they find kite & dude is fucked up, gon is pissed. gets all angry & ~dark~, especially during the palace invasion when he’s staring pitou down as she fixes up komugi. then the actual fight against pitou: more darkness, more anger, but through it all there’s still light, namely his jajanken being very orange & fiery lookin.....and that final sequence, where he puts all his possible nen he’d ever have into his ~final form~ or wahtever & turns into a male version of true form!bisky but dressed in a crop top & short-shorts (i am SCARRED, btw. s c a r r e d !). there’s just huuuge flashes of light as that’s going on, and it reminded me of supernovas or dying stars when i was thinking about it, where the star is like, collapsing under its own weight? & burning thru its own fuel, until there’s nothing left except a dwarf or black hole or what have you. one final, extremely deadly burst of light & energy before death.

  On the meruem side of things: born into a dark cave, exhibits a traditionally evil/cruel/wicked/whatever personality/traits so that has ppl associating him with darkness. then he gets to know komugi, starts to appreciate other aspects of humanity, seems like he could have actually turned into a decent person who doesn’t want to eat everyone - so that’s a ‘path to light’, maybe? - and then the extermination team yeets themselves into the palace, netero takes him out to bumfuck nowhere, they fight. netero’s fighting is just ALL light, from his giant ass golden 100-type guanyin bodhisattva to the poor man’s rose. again, there’s the sense of finality to it all, in a similar vein to dying stars: netero comes in determined to kill meruem no matter what, and we all know netero doesn’t flake. then we see netero get destroyed after the zero hand, and he triggers the rose, and everything is burning & on fire before the flames are put out and all turns dark again.

  But wait!!! pouf & youpi revive meruem and all he does is play gungi with komugi, even with the poison of the rose. he eventually dies, and the gungi pieces in that final shot of them together (i am BAWLING just thinking about it holy shit) has one that’s all white, one that’s a black ring and white inside. i assume all white is for komugi, who has never done ANYTHING wrong in her LIFE, so i like to think that the 2nd one is for meruem - born “into darkness”, literally & figuratively, but he turns something like ‘good’ by the end. it’s interesting how togashi has sort of gone for a bit of a subversion here: the hero going from light to darkness, and the main antag from darkness to light.

✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍   AahhhhHHHHHhhh so if you read all the way down here through my LONG rambles, tysm! i would LOVE LOVE LOVE to hear what other people think about all this, and i’ve FOR SURE missed tons and tons of stuff - chimera ants is just. SO MUCH. and i don’t know it as well as yorknew eeek.

  I’m not sure if i’m really ~knowledgeable~ in any other areas relating to hxh, so this might be the only one of these that i do, but i definitely think about some of this - esp all the religious symbolism & #4 stuff - a ton! so in the meantime, if it’s of any interest, i’m just going to shamelessly plug my hxh x religious beliefs/superstitions edit series :D lots of love to all!!!

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Bulgaria brings a mentally reassuring anthem to Rotterdam 2021

I’ve said so that VICTORIA herself sort of agreed to have done “Tears Getting Sober” if she was allowed to, but for one I have to thank that EBU said that the artists can’t have their 2020 songs back? You’ll see why when I get to the review after two boring paragraphs of text with technical info, for the country that is Bulgaria!

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Victoria Georgieva (or VICTORIA, but I can’t be arsed to continuously capitalize her name so I’ll just say Victoria from now on) was born a singer, for she started to sing at the age 11, went to a specific school of angel voices (no really that’s what it was called), and tried to go to the X Factor while a liiiiiittle too young until realizing that she needed to wait for a few years, and wait a few years she did, and went on to the X Factor again.

She didn’t win, but she still got to sign a contract and sing some stuff in Bulgarian before she decided to rebrand, started singing in English, and completely decided that ballads is her style. She cannot really do upbeat most of the time. So you can’t really have a bop from her in the future. (Well except that there’s a couple of songs in her discography that I personally classify as “bops” but they’re more like... idek sad bops?? but they can be danced to, but I get her, she doesn’t do anything that’s more loud and upbeat and clubby and summery kind of - in short, nothing you can go “YAAASSSS QUEEEEEN” over to.)

The entry she ended up singing, “Growing Up Is Getting Old”, is what I can describe to be about overcoming the emotional twists and turns inside of you as you grow older, because as it turns out, it ain’t what you thought it would be - but if you push just a little further, you realize that if you’re growing up, maybe the life isn’t so bad, afterall - you are able to get up. Somehow. It was written as part of Boris-Milanov-led songwriting camp held during summer, and a lot of people seemed to be a part of it because multiple different folk have songwriting credits on the potential Bulgarian entries this year.

REVIEW

Let’s get this out of the way immediately. I prefer “Growing Up Is Getting Old” to “Tears Getting Sober”. The former sounds a lot less irritatingly underwhelming and a lot more positively overwhelming you with warm emotions and sunglow. “Tears Getting Sober” was a song I could never really connect with - maaaaybe the last chorus is much better on there, but it doesn’t do much for me either, I guess.

Their 2021 forray however is a much different kind of thing - once again, going for lyrical non-cliches, Victoria tells a tale about her inner turmoils and continuing in life, in a way that’s personal to her and also kind of relatable to all of us. We all have these moments of fear and anxiety and nervous systems aching. If only there was someone who’d tell us that we’re worth saving... thanks a lot Victoria, you’re the MVP. Filling in the void that Netherlands from last year had brought us but not anymore - another personal song about getting old and having those kind of feelings inside - and doing a great job at taking the baton in the right way (even with featuring the word “grow” in both of the titles, neat coincidence).

Not only the lyrics feel like a hug, the song just emulates ray of sunshine and golden glitter coming down from the sky, Molly Sanden style. The violins in the G major key playing so precisely, building up momentum throughout the entire song, slowly but surely - starting with the ticking clock in the first verse that may have subtle violin in there; and the first chorus is just so simple piano, and then the second chorus has a tinge of electronic something, and the last chorus goes full in with the backing vocals boosting the song, after Victoria performs the quite magnificent bridge... now I don’t have synesthesia but I associate music keys with colors, and to me G major would always come across as something yellow or orange - “Growing Up Is Getting Old” is a perfect example of why’s that for me. And obviously, Victoria’s love for harmony-humming (even if there’s just one instance of it after she sings “star crossed soul”) complements the song to a T.

And it turned out to be a much better choice than last year’s. Maybe finally a female ballad I am getting behind.

Now I wanna know why the bookies don’t appreciate THIS entry as much as last year?

Granted, now it’s 2021 and the environment is so much different, and the songs have changed, and the dynamics have changed, and now there’s suddenly more competition at stake. And for Bulgaria it fares quite much more underwhelmingly - well, at this moment they’re like 6th, which isn’t bad, but there’s a lack of sung praises coming its way, not quite a feat that “Tears Getting Sober” actually achieved, being the bookies fave right before the cancellation of last year. In general the year has been pretty dry for the previous winner picks like Iceland, Lithuania and this, but I can’t say that the previous winner bets from 2020 are all that dead either? Though I gotta say that Bulgaria wasn’t gonna win 2020 anyway, so it’s a lose-lose in this case.

Also I just can’t at that music video being a little dramatic at the beginning, with the cancellation of Eurovision being presented as if it were a worldwide disaster during which we all shall lock ourselves into bunkers and wait until the better days, eventhough the panini is not war and war supplies kit is not just enough to survive it. But it seems like that the world is quite literally falling apart, as evidenced by Victoria going through all kinds of pathways away from her living room, meeting a  (presumably) mini version of her somewhere in between, and literally surrounded by the shaking environment by the last moments of the song

before we realize it was just reality recursing from the TV’s point of view that Victoria was watching all along, and then she leaves the living room again, but in her world, everything is normal and she could just go wherever she wants by car. Even I can’t come up with a storyline ending that’s somewhat intertwined and all plot-twisty and more confusing than that. But props to her team I guess

Approval factor: Let’s say I somewhat approve this message. Follow-up factor: For the sake of argument let me just say that Bulgaria is moving on a great path, eventhough the former entry leaves me cold, at least the current entry keeps me warm at all times, like a cup of cocoa and a good blanket. Please Bulgaria, never run out of sponsors. Qualification factor: I’ve seen one or two people throw around the “surprise NQ” tag for this song and I don’t get why??? There’s no way that the tense atmosphere of semifinal 2 would sure-fire-ly kill Bulgaria, even if they have a lot less chances to win this year than they had the last one. There can be some shock NQs indeed though, and if there are, I am paging... uhhhhh Finland? Idk why but you might see what I mean if I ever get around to reviewing “Dark Side”. Bulgaria? Never. It may not win the semi but it will cradle around the top 7 somehow.

INTERNAL NF CORNER

That’s right, Bulgaria managed to do both.

At the time when one other of Bulgaria’s songs got released, within the *Special* Eurovision September 1st-onwards range, people naturally succumbed to their primal instinct of asking whether that’s her Eurovision song... only for Vic to probably announce this early on that no, it’s just *one* of potential ESC entries she’s harbouring. And the remaining potential ones were all on her debut EP. Who actually got a more well-orchestrated schedule for everyone to follow, and yet, people were much more keen to cling on the first EP song out of the gate, “Imaginary Friend”. Now I get that the fans of that song were super upset at the revelation that IF is not going, but it is a technically strong song for the sake of being a technically strong song, and I don’t want to think that Victoria is only forced to choose the songs that can win for her, so she’s such a sweetheart for gravitating towards a song she could dearly care about. So props to her team saving the initial winner for last to be revealed, lol.

Though wasn’t her personal favourite a Billie-Eilish-lite-upbeat-kinda-track Phantom Pain?

Which was also my personal favourite?

Look, I know that favouring the only non-ballad in the whole lineup (well “Ugly Cry” is also not quite a ballad but its beat is kinda so-so, so I tend to ignore it) is kinda sus, also, y’all are sick to death to Billie Eilish comparisons, but I do believe that Billie would never be able to do an “Imaginary Friend” while Victoria could do a “Lovely”. This makes me remember the cover art of Billie’s debut album where she sits on her bed, dressed in white, and so is Victoria on this very MV, with strange shit going on behind her in the mirror. To the mirror, her reflection acts creepy, back again.

The other 2 I don’t feel like caring about enough, sure they got their cred, sure there’s one entry properly crediting Milanov (who seems to not have an actual entry this year that’s purely attributed to *him*, as opposed to 3 last year, 2 of which were performed by acts that returned this year????), sure there’s the funny thing about having a funeral song where out of this and Finland only Austria managed to send a quote unquote “funeral” song, but I think the funeral song would’ve sounded better if the pre-section of it on the “Phantom Pain” video was THE “funeral” song itself, and not whatever was that other funeral song.

In between there was a public sort of survey where people could submit feedback and positive words to Vic’s choices to help her decide - I didn’t get to vote but I feel fine with the winner eitherway, and that counts for something! And the end result was revealed at the very end of Victoria’s very own rooftop concert.

The colors on the circle thingy of this, they were meant to symbolize all Bulgarian entries up to Victoria’s 2nd one, in pictograms that kind of reminded me of Coldplay attributing every song on ‘Mylo Xyloto’ its own little symbol.

The concert was not only full of music and also adverts for the inaugural sponsor iCard (that also included some element of foreshadow in between the suspense, you’ll see why), but also the Bulgarian folk talking before each song, saying all the positive nice words they can for Vic; that she’s talented, and that they were so excited that Bulgaria was doing well in the odds last year prior to cancellation, bla bla bla... also some people were proud of voting for Bulgaria outside Bulgaia, and they made puns about the forthcoming songs on the concert that they were introducing, and so on, and there was also someone called Dara, whom I really want to be sent by Bulgaria one day to show off that they’re not afraid of doing trashy-esque bops that don’t necessarily win

Also they reminded me that Lucy from No Angels (aka the sole reason Bulgaria 12′d Germany in 2008) still exists.

Also Azis.

There was also an intermission where Eurovision 2021 acts could say all the nice words to Victoria on their own part. And several artists chose to... how shall I put it... use up their several seconds rather interestingly. Like how The Roop would say something real quick only to delve into more of their usual “let’s dance, let’s discoteque! *hand scissors* ;P” self-promo, and Senhit carelessly being allowed to say whatever she wants in Italian without subtitles <3 Sorry sis, they’re only given to people from another white-green-red flag-color country.

About the iCard foreshadow... so there’s their advert about Victoria waiting in the line to get something in the Soft Vocals Store, and people ahead of her giving her money the standard oldfashioned way, and the old lady at the counter is... slow, to say the least. After a good amount of time spent waffling around, Victoria finally pulls out the iCard application and pays for the imaginary items she wants, then narrates some stuff about said application, and a Eurovision entry of hers plays when the old lady is at home, spending time in front of TV enjoying the music. Before the concert, the song that played was “Tears Getting Sober”. The advert played once more before Victoria’s big entry decision and entry MV reveal, and in place of the 2020 entry, “Growing Up Is Getting Old” was the one that sounded out loud... Now you may think that there were attempts at some sort of spoilage here, but after that ad before the concert EP NF result, there was this other advert starring Victoria that played “Imaginary Friend” at the end, a last-ditch effort to trick viewers into going “see? just because that ad played the chosen song doesn’t mean it’s the chosen song!! this song could as well be a chosen song as well!!” yeah no shut up GUIGO IS the chosen song kthxbyebye.

ANY LAST WORDS?

Having said all that praise, I actually have “Growing Up Is Getting Old” fairly low on my ranking. It’s just because the year is so damn good and I have a lot more songs to care about more than this, but I appreciate the gesture that this singer is sending very much. Good luck on your road to conquer Europe, Victory-ia, I’m sure you get the best of the experience and all, because you would deserve it.

[thebigladjake]

AX3001: Oddyssey - TV Show Research and Development: Giygas and the Intrigue of having an unexplainable villain

When it came to making a TV Show, I always had an idea for an Earthbound spiritual successor since 2018 and over this last Summer when we were briefed to make three TV Shows. I had to really think about what ideas I wanted to do. However, during my downtime, I suddenly remembered one specific thing about my Earthbound experience...

Giygas

The Embodiment of Evil, the Universal Cosmic Destroyer or the Almighty Idiot according to who you ask, Giygas is the main antagonist of Earthbound and appropriately serves as the game’s final boss before your adventure comes to a close. Granted, him being the very last thing you fight leads to you leaving with that boss fresh on your mind. But, I hadn’t played Earthbound for a few years... And Giygas just suddenly popped into my head. And a lot of the questions were “Why is he like this? This cute and friendly game has a boss that looks like a nightmare?” I was absolutely fascinated by this boss and it led to my second playthrough of the game.

Onett, the start of the Adventure

This is the hometown of our main character, Ness and effectively our window into the world of this game. We see the town he lives in, it’s so bright and colourful with all the town essentials! A burger shop, a town hall, an arcade, hospital, police station and library, it’s familiar to us as our hometowns most likely have similar locations. The vibrant colours of all the buildings is eye-catching and welcoming! 

The music is also worth noting as it’s very peppy and upbeat, it feels like the theme of a small town with a nice community. Most of the music follows this formula.

Most of the towns in the game follow this design and it does feel like you’re exploring more and more of the world, like you’ve ventured further than you have ever gone before and you’re not going to stop because this world is so interesting and welcoming!

Some towns deviate from the formula, but the good people in the towns help to established the same welcoming energy that we’re used to.

Now, let’s take a look at the final map before Giygas’ lair...

The Cave of the Past, the end of the Adventure

Complete contrast to what has been established this entire game. There are absolutely no colours, there are no buildings, no operations of Giygas’ in the background. It’s just a path to the end of the journey and it’s so simple... But, it’s super effective! The lack of colour helps to make it feel otherworldly, makes it feel alien to the world that you’re used to and that’s exactly what Giygas is, he’s not from the world. 

Even our main cast of heroes could not be transported back in time without being transferred into robot bodies, all of their colour is gone too. All except Ness’ hat, showing a small bit of colour almost as if it’s that one bit of hope of beating Giygas.

At the end of games, usually going to the final boss’ lair will be some huge event where you see all of their plans, what they’ve built over time and will be accompanied by some epic score. Earthbound does things differently.

Just give that a listen, it’s a eerie, droning piece that doesn’t sound like a great confrontation theme. It sounds like ambience more than a score to me and I think that makes it scarier, like you are in the positions of the kids who are probably incredibly scared of what they are going to have to face once inside that cave. It’s so incredible and it’s a sample of the Beach Boys song, ‘Deirdre’.

It’s the opening note and I find it amazing how a single sample can do so much! There is another Earthbound track that I will link here which features a sample of the trumpet in the intro of the Beatles song, ‘All you need is Love’ and again, it sets up so much with just a tiny little sample.

This is used just before going to the Cave of the Past, instead being the Cave of the Present. It’s technically just two notes with a reverb, but the sample adds so much and it just feels uncomfortable. However, we don’t need to talk about this for long, let’s go right to Giygas’ lair!

Giygas Lair, the true contrast to Earthbound’s style!

I apologise for the size of the image, but it’s pretty much a straight path but LOOK AT THIS! A trail of organs and entrails twisting and turning through this dark void until you find this uncanny monstrosity of a machine made of the same organic material you were walking on. This. This is what made me come back, it’s such a disturbing idea. 

This is open to interpretation, but the way caves are represented in Earthbound is to only make sprites of the ground and walls. All the stuff you can’t see is black, just like how a cave should be. Giygas’ lair has this same motif, but there doesn’t really appear to be any walls around. So depending on your view, they’re either walking through a tunnel or entrails or walking through the void as previously stated. Personally, I think both are terrifically terrifying but I definitely see the void more.

The organs pulse as you walk up them, the only noise complimenting the atmosphere is the clanking of robo-feet and the breathing of Giygas which is what I feel gives it the whole void feeling. It’s so unnerving that this is the final confrontation, but the fact that it is actually puts us in Ness and his friends shoes.

Getting to the Machine causes everything to stop, the ambience vanishes. Giygas’ intro music plays as the Machine changes to show the robots a picture of Ness’ face. Ness was prophesied to be the one who brings down Giygas and the first thing we see from the Machine is Ness, already suggesting to us that Giygas knows that we’re here...

Pokey, Ness’ childhood friend and eventual enemy over the course of the game, descends in a Spider Mech and just like that the Final Battle is about to begin!

The Final Fight

Of course, the final boss begins with Pokey standing before you with Giygas’ number one thought right now... Ness is here and he’s come to defeat me. This is a pretty standard affair for a boss, only Pokey can be harmed and he is much more a threat in this Spider Mech than he was previously in battle. 

Giygas has a shield that is impervious to any kind of physical or psychic attacks and cannot be destroyed or disabled. He attacks using the special power that only Ness knows ‘PSI Rockin’’. His shield will always reflect your shots back at the character who attacks him and even when they have shield themselves, they will get hit regardless. The Machine is what keeps Giygas stable and alive, making him completely invincible...

However... He has one big idiot on his side...

Pokey can be damaged and the strategy of the fight is to focus on him and avoid any attacks that hit the both of them. Pokey, like the main cast, is a kid and he’s incredibly immature. So as soon as his mech is defeated, he taunts the main gang and turns off the Devil’s Machine... The one thing preventing Giygas’ defeat...

Giygas Released

Once released, Pokey explains that Giygas isn’t even himself anymore. He became so powerful that his body was destroyed and had to be contained into a machine in order to maintain some sort of grasp on his thoughts. Without that machine, the four heroes are taken into a dimension of Giygas’ thoughts and since we play as Ness we hear his thoughts directed towards us the player.

He reaches out with such thoughts as repeating Ness’ (The player’s) name, saying “I feel... Sad.” or “It feels good.” and added upon these thoughts Giygas’ attacks cannot be comprehended by our characters. It really helps to add a sense of hopelessness because we have no idea what is truly going on and we can’t fight what we don’t know. 

An Unconventional Resolution

Attacks don’t work, defending won’t work either, you can’t heal or save yourself. All hopes seem lost until you notice a certain act that Paula can do. Pray.

When Paula prays, she reaches out to the world she left behind and the folks that are waiting for their return get the feeling that something bad is happening. So, they too pray from the bottom of their hearts...

https://youtu.be/cptFVD3eTEs?start=320&end=374

If you watch the small clip above, once he feels the support from the Earth. The sound cue to signify that Giygas has been damaged and that Giygas is not okay.

Onward to his next form.

Now I would like you to take a close look at this image, I’ve asked a few people about this and sometimes they get it without me saying anything and others don’t. So, just take a moment to find an image amongst the Giygas’.

Got it or have you given up? In the realm of Giygas, here in the black void is a pretty damn distinct shape of a baby. And this is what fascinated me about Giygas, there is a theory that this is symbolism for abortion as you go back in time to kill Giygas but that theory has been disproven by Shigesato Itoi, the game’s creator. There’s evidence that goes against this theory anyway, but this fetus imagery always stuck out to me. 

It’s said to be a coincidence that the Super Nintendo generated these sprites and in this pattern. But, it’s such a definite shape of a baby and I find it absolutely mental that it’s just a coincidence. And that curiosity is what brought me back to Earthbound, just this happy go lucky game where you make friends with a little monkey that chews bubblegum, make friends with a man who converts himself into a huge dungeon man and at the very end, you’re faced with this. 

It’s not only impactful imagewise, but storywise it’s just as impactful for the opposite reasons. As Giygas can now be damaged by feeling the love and support coming from the friends Ness has made across the world. Each time Giygas is hit, it gets worse, but the moment he really breaks down is when Ness’ Mother wakes up in the middle of the night and rushes downstairs with Ness’ little sister and their dog. They all feel uneasy and begin to pray for the safety of Ness and his friends.

https://youtu.be/cptFVD3eTEs?start=702&end=738

This is the moment Giygas truly breaks down, feeling the support of a loving Mother looking out for her son is a feeling he had long since buried. It’s about time I talk about the backstory of Giygas, while it’s not touched upon in Earthbound/Mother 2, in Earthbound Beginnings/Mother we see Giygas as an alien and we learn about how he came to be.

Giygas and Trauma

Giygas was an alien that was raised by Maria and George, a couple that was abducted by the other members of Giygas’ race. Maria adopted Giygas and looked after him while George studied their powers without their approval and eventually escaped with this knowledge, never being seen again. Once Giygas grows up, he was instructed to ensure that no human is capable of using PSI powers and not wanting to betray the people who raised him, he forcefully detached himself from Maria to prepare for the invasion.

Maria was sent back to Earth, but with amnesia and once the Eight Melodies are obtained, she regains her memory and explains that it was a song she used to sing to Giygas when he was young. This is very important.

Giygas’ first attempt to take over the world. He comes down, looking upon the gang and the battle begins. Starting the trend of Mother/Earthbound games having a unusual way of defeating the final boss. This time, the group begins to sing the Eight Melodies which brings up emotions in Giygas that he thought he had long since repressed or even got over. Giygas has a complete mental breakdown and recalls his forces, swearing revenge on the planet and that he will return.

In Earthbound, Giygas has worked on himself and made sure that what brought him down before cannot bring him down again. However, he didn’t do enough since the feeling of a loving Mother reaching out to her son in his time of need still hurts him severely and it’s at this point where Giygas can hardly do anything. His sprite starts contorting, the colours shift and the audio turns into a droning whirring noise.

Ness’ Mothers love is one thing, but it’s not enough. Giygas is wounded, but he is still fighting. Paula keeps praying for one more person and with a few more attempts, that person is you. There’s a moment in the game where the fourth wall is broken and asks you to enter your name. It can even be your full name, my name is pretty long and my name fits into it perfectly. It’s emotionally engaging since it includes you and you feel like in a way you are defeating him rather than Giygas being defeated by the world of the game. 

https://youtu.be/cptFVD3eTEs?start=838&end=938

After this Giygas loses control, the whirring increases, his sprite distorts further to the point where he is unrecognisable, the visuals cutting in with static occassionally. Static that appears at the very beginning of the game, suggesting the approach of Giygas and showing pictures of the invasion, and at the end of the game it suggest that he’s retreating, he’s getting out of reach and eventually he is gone.

And after all of that craziness, the robots are outside of Giygas’ lair. Everything is quiet, “The War against Giygas is over.”

What was Shigesato Itoi thinking?

Shigesato Itoi drew inspiration from an event of his childhood, where he had walked into the wrong screen at the theatre. He walked in on a murder scene which as a kid he mistook for a rape scene which had such a potent effect on him. He drew inspiration from it for Giygas’ final battle and some of the things Giygas says. 

In an interview, Itoi claims that there was a scene where a guy grabbed a woman’s breast which distorted it into a ball shape. He said “It all hit me really hard. It was a direct attack on my brain.” despite the fact that this doesn’t actually happen in the movie, which Itoi admits that his memories are a little fuzzy. It’s probably because it all happened so fast and his child brain may have created false memories or just failed to understand it. Itoi also goes onto say, "this sense of terror having atrocity and eroticism side-by-side, and that’s what Giygas's lines at the end are. During the end, he says, “It hurts,” right? That's... her breast. It’s like, how do I put it, a “living-being” sensation." and the purpose of the scene is to get the player’s mind working.

Another interesting part of this interview is when Itoi talks about typical villains and says this, “Well, you know, having a villain there who simply goes, “Wahahaha!” and the like would clearly be bad. But, actually, when I think about it, having villains go, “Wahahaha!” is a really intriguing pattern. But there’s no point in wondering all by yourself for days on end what it means for a bad guy to go, “Wahahaha!” at the climax of a game, you know? I get the feeling that there aren’t many people in the game industry who would do that sort of thing, though.” Which is something important to consider, Earthbound is such a colourful game bursting with personality, so having it end with just a standard final boss affair probably wouldn’t feel satisfying.

What the Earthbound/Mother series taught me about final confrontations?

Giygas’ character and what it taught me that even “Universal Cosmic Destroyers” can have trauma that they are trying to avoid and bury. It humanises them in a way and it can make the final confrontation that more powerful as it’s a problem we can all relate to. They’re not all evil for the sake of being evil, sometimes they don’t have a choice. 

I think this is a good thing to take on board and I have already begun planning on my main antagonist’s motivations on Oddyssey. It might be changed since it’s a sensitive topic for me right now, but these motivations won’t be brought up in Season 1 anyway

[forestcump]

Gentrification and The Last Black Man In San Francisco

Heres a blog I wrote lol

Joe Talbot’s The Last Black Man in San Francisco is a tale told of the heartbreaking wave of culture-annihilating gentrification that has hit one of America’s iconic metropoles. It’s sloping streets, angular row houses, and quirky residents have made it a place of myth emboldened further by its key role in radical social movements such as the Anti-War Movement, The Black Panther Party, etc. But, the story Talbot tells doesn't reflect on the history known by most (white) Americans. Instead, he tells the story of the black man in San Francisco and all of the culture that gentrification is, successfully, trying to wipe away. 

The film’s protagonist, Jimmie Failes IV, and his best friend, Montgomery Allen, take it upon themselves to maintain the house that Jimmie grew up in. The rub of the whole thing though is that neither Mont or Jimmie live there, in fact, this older Yuppie (stands for: Young, Urban Professional) couple are the owners of the property. In one of the first scenes, Jimmie is repainting the window sill in the front of the house and the woman who owns the house threatens to call the police, which is quickly met by her apologetic husband. This struck me as funny because it perfectly represents both sides of the well-meaning, affluent, white person that have become the principal population group in the city. On one side, these new folks are tired of locals giving them shit and not caring about them or their cool publishing jobs; and on the other they won’t call the cops to avoid the risk of being “like” other White people. Although humorous, this scene is a haunting reminder to viewers who are themselves victims of gentrification that this is what the final stages of the process look like. Neighborhoods once teeming with ethnic influence, devoid of the blandness of White America, have now been transformed into pricey and bland versions of the suburbs where these damn people come from. 

The role of race is also very present in this film as it does a great job establishing the symbolic gravity that happens whenever Jimmie or Mont are on the screen. This becomes especially clear when the film returns to where Jimmie and Mont actually live, which is the far-off borough of Bayview-Hunters Point. This area plays just as key a role as the decadent Victorian house that Jimmie longs for, as it establishes the result of when a cities inhabitants are priced out of not just their homes but their impact on the cities culture. In this part of the map, there are a group of local men who spend their days busting the balls of any and everybody that come their way. This group acts as Greek Chorus which provides commentary and atmosphere to scenes where Jimmie and Mont seem to be singularly focused on the old Victorian. Another character that stood out to me was a Preacher who stands on a milk crate and preaches to these men, and anybody walking past, about the insane levels of inequality that have pushed Black people so far from the city. In one scene, the Preacher is railing against this mysterious cohort of men wearing hazmat suits cleaning some sort of chemical spill in the Bay right behind where the Preacher is standing. “Why are they wearing suits and we’re not? What are they not telling us?” he roars atop his milk crate to the attention of, uh, nobody that’s listening. 

The imagery of this movie, which includes the Chorus and The Preacher, speak to the San Francisco that is fading away fast. Another image that stands out is a scene where Jimmie is waiting at a bus stop next to a nudist and they are both accosted by a party bus full of inebriated Yuppies. They roar and cackle at the sight of the nudist and proclaim him “the fuckin’ man!”, but fail to realize they’re role in the extermination of people like the nudist. Jimmie and this nude man sit silently in shared exhaustion of this wave of people storming they’re city, despite their best efforts to “be cool”, the city is dying with each yoga studio and salad bar that opens. 

Although my experience as a straight, white man has no comparison to the struggles of POC and LGBTQIA+ communities in this country, I do share the same feeling of being exiled from your own home. I grew up in Hoboken, New Jersey which has now turned into a hot bed for gentrifiers who desire to work in New York. This is yet another iconic American metropole that has had it’s soul stamped out by the wave of suburbanites who feel it is their right to claim the city as their own. This is seen, mostly, in the cost of housing and cost of living which has skyrocketed as a result of the wave of private equity money that flooded the city and whose tentacles have reached nearly every industry you could imagine. Hoboken was once a working class town that had its fair share of racial tension, as any town in this country, but it always remained genuinely Hoboken, until the real estate developers came. Wharfs and warehouses that once played a key role in the American economy were demolished and turned into apartment complexes. This obviously brought more money into the community, but soon the locals that made Hoboken were being pushed out further and further. For instance, my mother and I lived in one apartment for my entire childhood until the end of middle school but the rent got raised and we were forced to move to Jersey City. In high school, I spent most of my free time in Hoboken because that’s where my friends were but everytime the party was over and my friends walked back to their childhood homes, I had to walk across the city to the train station to get back to my new home. I felt displaced and lonely for most of my high school days as I grappled with the harsh realities of gentrification and the brutality of capitalism. It also did not help that my mother was laid off from her job in 2009 and was essentially job-less for five years. 

My childhood home was sold to a young couple from somewhere that they turned into some trendy little spot for them to live for the time being. No care was given to the memories I made there or the progress that my mother made as a single mom raising a child in this area, just a cold “Sorry, thanks for cleaning it before you left”. The coldness of gentrification is the most galling result of this phenomenon. The young people move in and immediately lust for making their mark; whether it be calling the police or 311 on locals loitering on the streets, or building breweries in old school buildings, etc. Business' that I grew up walking by every day became boarded up and replaced with hair salons and boutiques that were going to close in six months anyway. But, despite the spirit that lives in places like Hoboken, San Francisco, New York, or Boston; money always seems to win.

Watching “The Last Black Man in San Francisco” gave me a strange sense of hope because it showed me how to defend your home, even when the odds are terribly stacked against you. There was a scene at the end of the movie where Jimmie Failes is sitting on the bus and overhears these two Yuppie women shitting on San Francisco and talking about much they “hate it here”. Jimmie turns to them and tells them “you don't get to hate it unless you love it”, which doesn’t make an impact on the women, but it made an impact on me and many others who have seen the movie. Hearing transplants bitch and moan about how shitty the New York subway is or complaining about the cat that lives in the bodega makes me laugh when it used to make me sad, because I know that the city has won. What I mean by that, is that when you hear Yuppies complain about the community they’ve gentrified it's clear that they’ve failed to make “the city their own” and have succumbed to the community that was already there. Cities are magical places that are the center for so many things, but what truly makes them magical are the people that built them, whether it be physically or spiritually. So, I hope to embody the spirit of Jimmie and Mont as fierce defenders of their homes even when it doesnt even seem worth it to fight for it anymore. 

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (7)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.5k (this chapter), 23.2k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

“Why don't we just use the door?” Dan hisses, arms wrapped around themself to make up for their thin denim jacket. “It's unlocked.”

“This is the way Mar and I always did it,” Phil hums, watching Sophie move the loose boards away from the window. She's perched on PJ's shoulders like a little bird.

“It's more fun,” Chris offers.

“Plus, entering houses by the door is the quickest way to alert ghouls and neighbours to your arrival,” says PJ.

“I think Martyn just liked showing off. Don't think it was that deep.”

“Done,” says Sophie, patting the top of PJ's head. “You can put me down now.”

With much more care and grace than Phil knows he would have been able to manage, PJ helps Sophie off his shoulders. Phil has dropped all of his friends at least once, so he isn't allowed to be the boost anymore.

Phil hands his bags over to Chris while they're figuring that out. They'd left their laptop bags in the car so they had less to carry - except Dan, whose messenger bag is across their chest like they're prepared to make a quick getaway. Phil can't really blame them, since it's not like they signed up for this the way the rest of them have.

“Wait,” says PJ. He digs around in his jacket pockets until he comes out with a Sharpie marker that he probably stole from Martyn's bedroom. “Give me your arm.”

“You know I was joking about the protection sigils,” Phil says, but he rolls up his sleeve for PJ anyway.

“Well, I sure as fuck wasn’t,” says PJ. He looks at something on his phone before he takes Phil by the elbow and starts drawing something bubbly and almost cute. Phil figures that he’s planned these out, or at the very least had some letters picked out, so he watches the design bloom in fascination.

“What does this one mean?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t work,” says PJ, pressing one last dot right above the circular shape before he moves on and grabs at Chris’ arm without warning. Chris doesn’t seem to mind, he just lets PJ shove his sleeve up while he looks up at the boarded windows of the townhouse.

“That tickles,” Chris says, but he doesn’t try to take his arm back.

“Shut up, you big baby,” PJ murmurs.

It’s a different symbol that’s coming together on Chris’ skin, and Phil wonders why. Did PJ really make them unique protection sigils? That’s kind of cute and kind of hilarious. He watches Dan out of the corner of his eye as PJ finishes Chris’ sigil and moves on to Sophie’s. Dan’s brows are furrowed and they’re gripping at their own elbows from some combination of cool air and nervousness.

“Dan,” Phil says, shifting closer so they don’t get the whole peanut gallery involved. “You don’t have to be here. It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Dan says with much less conviction than they’d had in the coffee shop.

Phil pretends to believe them. “But it’s okay if you are.”

The way Dan’s eyes fix on Phil’s makes him feel frozen in place, like Dan can somehow see into his soul. Their eyes are so warm and their lashes are so, so long that Phil feels certain that he won’t be the one to look away first.

“Are you scared?” Dan asks quietly.

Phil is terrified, but that has absolutely nothing to do with the house they’re breaking into. He shrugs, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets and twisting them anxiously.

“This is a pretty normal day for me,” he says. “But I don’t always have a Scooby gang with me.”

The lines around Dan’s mouth deepen before their lips actually curve up, like a tell. Phil is fully prepared to wrestle with the instinct he’s got to stare at Dan’s lips some more, but he doesn’t have to.

“Are you fucking talking about Buffy again?” PJ hisses, bumping his elbow against Phil’s as he joins them. He reaches like he’s going to grab at Dan the same way he’s grabbed at the rest of them, but he hesitates with his hand outstretched. “Er, Dan, can I draw on you, too? I know you don’t believe in this stuff, but it’ll make me feel a lot better.”

“Go nuts,” Dan says, holding out their hand like PJ is a lord who ought to kiss it. PJ, of course, just starts drawing a new shape on the back of it, because that’s the logical conclusion. They watch the lines form shapes with a sort of vague interest.

“I wasn’t talking about Buffy,” Phil feels the need to clarify. “I’m not always talking about Buffy.”

“That’s news to me,” says PJ.

Dan grins, looking a lot more at ease now that the atmosphere is all banter and no ghost stories. “He wasn’t, I can vouch for him. Think he was making a classic Scoob refer-ino.”

“Ah, the ancient texts,” PJ says, his own shoulders going loose as he grins back at Dan. “Wait ‘til he has to take his contacts out later. It’s not as funny hearing someone shout that they can’t see without their glasses when that person is the one in charge.”

“I’m right here,” Phil reminds them. “And Velma was in charge.”

“All set,” PJ says like Phil hasn’t spoken, adding a flourishing tail to the edge of Dan’s sigil.

“Great,” Dan says, dry. “Glad I have my protection from things that are definitely not real. Now what’s keeping me safe from the very real possibility of a human being attacking us?”

“Phil’s crowbar.”

“Oh, sure, that makes me feel loads better.”

“Are you lot coming or what?” Chris hisses, hefting one of the sleeping bags over his shoulder.

Phil breaks away from the conversation with a strange fluttering in his gut that’s completely unrelated to the rush of adrenaline he still gets when he lets Chris and PJ boost him to an unlocked window. He’s not very graceful at the best of times, so he’s glad that he doesn’t do anything stupid like fall flat on his face in front of Dan. He sits on the windowsill and lets the weird vibes from the Wilkins house wash over him again, raising goosebumps down his arms even under his thick jacket. He frowns into the dim kitchen, looking for any sign of life.

“Pass me the bar,” he murmurs, letting a hand dangle without looking back at his friends. It feels like something was waiting for them; there’s an air of anticipation in the very real sensation of being watched.

The cold metal placed in his palm makes Phil feel better, even if he can’t actually do anything with it. He murmurs a thanks and slips into the kitchen, eyes roving over all the shadows and nooks in the old house. He hears Sophie clamber in behind him but he doesn’t turn to look. It feels like turning his back on the darkness will end badly for him.

“Oh, don’t like that,” Sophie whispers. Phil feels her brush against his arm and hears the camera click on as Chris and PJ start the familiar train of passing bags through the window.

“Feels weird, right?” Phil agrees, matching her volume.

He moves further into the house, knowing that his friends will catch up. Sophie stays at his side, pointing the camera into every corner like she, too, is trying to find the source of the invisible eyes that feel glued to them. They’ve done this together fairly often, and Phil has done this by himself even more often, but something about this place, tonight, makes him feel like they’re green again.

Phil tenses when he feels something grip at the back of his jacket, but then the something speaks with Dan’s voice.

“Okay, why don’t we turn on the lights?” Dan whispers, right in Phil’s ear. Phil shivers. Some new goosebumps might rise, as well, but there’s no real way to know for sure. He isn’t about to roll up his sleeves and check.

“Why would we do that?” Phil asks. He doesn’t tell Dan to let go of him, and they don’t. Dan keeps hold of the back of his jacket even as he leads the way to the lounge, and Phil spares a moment to consider how weird this is going to look if Sophie is getting it on camera. Like he’s Dan’s guide dog or something.

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Dan, “so we can see?”

“It’s not really that dark in here,” Phil says with a little huff of a laugh. “And we’ve got torches.”

The noise Dan makes is unhappy, but they don’t protest. Phil shakes his head, directing his smile at the unlit fireplace so Sophie can’t pick it up.

“Fuck this,” Chris’ voice comes from the hallway, much too loudly.

Phil and Sophie sigh in harmony.

“What’s he doing?” Dan hisses, and Phil turns to give them a longsuffering sort of look.

“Chris doesn’t like this part,” says Phil. He doesn’t bother whispering, because Chris is already knocking things against walls and shouting nonsense. “Being sneaky doesn’t come naturally to him, so he prefers to just announce that we’re here and ruin my shots. I usually edit this out.”

As ridiculous as Chris’ methods are, Phil feels the weight of invisible eyes on them lift. He should probably be annoyed at Chris for scaring the presence away or antagonizing it, but it feels like he can breathe again, like they truly are alone in this room, and he’s got to give Chris the credit for that.

When Chris joins them, an irritated PJ at his shoulder, he looks altogether too proud of himself. Both of them glance at Dan’s hand, still gripping onto Phil.

“Thanks for that,” Phil says dryly, stopping any commentary before it starts.

“Welcome,” says Chris, bright. “Shall we upstairs?”

The Wilkins place isn’t all that scary now that the weird vibes are gone, it’s just creaky and dark and dusty. Phil is fine with that - the place he lives is all of those things, too - but every small noise under their feet makes Dan twitch. They’ve shifted to tugging on Phil’s sleeve instead, sticking so close to Phil’s side that he can feel their body heat.

PJ leads the way to the attic, talking a mile a minute to the camera about the way he’d felt the first time he was here, and Phil pulls Dan to a stop a few feet from the rest of the group.

“You seem a little stressed,” Phil says, trying to hide a grin. He doesn’t want Dan to think he’s mocking them, but it’s just a little cute.

Dan’s eyes are wide and their bottom lip is extra chapped from how many times they’ve dug their teeth into it, but they still manage to scoff. “I’m not stressed,” they insist. “And I’m not scared. I’ve been here before, y’know.”

“You’ve been here for parties,” says Phil. “It’s a bit of a different vibe.”

“Little bit,” Dan admits.

“I’m not making fun of you,” says Phil. He pats Dan’s arm with his crowbar-less hand. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“You’re not scared.”

“I’ve been doing this a really long time,” Phil reminds them. It’s the sort of thing that Dan must objectively know, but they look a little sheepish like maybe they’d forgotten.

“It’s not that I’m scared of, like, ghosts or something stupid like that,” Dan says, letting go of Phil’s sleeve and scratching the back of their neck. He feels a bit bereft for it. “I just don’t really like the dark, y’know, and maybe I get freaked out sometimes just watching your videos, and I kind of expected it to be less scary IRL but it’s actually way worse so I don’t really know what to do with that.”

The number of words they can fit into one breath is truly incredible to Phil. He smiles at them and watches redness blossom in patches across their cheeks as they realise how much they’re talking without saying anything at all.

“That’s cute,” Phil blurts out.

Dan bites their lip again, smiling a bit. Before they can say anything, though, there’s a sort of crashing noise from the general direction of PJ and Chris. Phil is very used to this.

“Fuck,” Dan breathes, gripping onto the strap of their messenger bag and flinching when a follow-up bang echoes through the hall. “Why are they like this?”

“I ask myself that question every day,” Phil sighs.

“Boys,” Sophie calls over in her soft, amused voice. “The idiots have got the ladder down. You coming?”

Dan laughs and nods, but Phil takes hold of their arm before they can go too far.

“Hey,” he says. “I can tell her not to call you that.”

The soft look he gets for it, laughter still scrunching Dan’s eyes and showing off their dimples, makes Phil’s chest kind of cave in on itself. They shrug, pulling Phil along the way Phil guided them earlier. “I don’t mind. It’s not inaccurate.”

Phil swallows hard. “It’s not?”

“It’s also not accurate,” Dan says, that softness still all over their face. “We’ll talk about it later if you want to. Just trust me that I’ll say something if one of you makes me uncomfortable, okay?”

“Okay,” Phil agrees, letting himself be dragged instead of letting go.

--

The floorboards in the attic are dirty and covered in marker, but Sophie finds a nice warm corner to set their sleeping bags up in. Chris is dealing with the camera and voice recorder, checking batteries on all their gadgets while PJ interrogates Dan on where they got their boots.

Phil tunes them all out and starts looking at the different sigils, taking photos and trying to figure out what somebody would possibly need from doing magic in a house that’s been empty for decades. Surely there are better places to open a veil like that. Phil doesn’t know a lot about magic, if it’s even a real thing, but he has a whole heap of assumptions and absolutely none of those point to a townhouse in Rusholme with working electricity.

When his eyes start to feel dry, Phil grabs his rucksack. “Be back in a sec,” he says, dropping the ladder down.

“What?” Dan asks, their voice pitching a little higher. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” says Phil. He hands his crowbar to Dan, because he feels somewhat certain that he won’t need it. “Can’t take my contacts out without washing my hands. I won’t be long, okay? Just hang onto this and don’t listen to anything Chris tells you.”

“I resent that,” Chris chimes in, stretching out on one of the sleeping bags. “See if I let you crawl into bed with me later.”

“When have I ever wanted that?” Phil sighs. He never knows how to react to Chris flirting with him, but it’s so much more awkward when Dan is blinking between them like they’re wondering if they’ve missed something. Whatever Dan is missing, Phil is pretty sure he’s missing it, too. “Like I said, don’t listen to Chris.”

Dan still looks nervous and a little confused, but all Phil can do is give them a reassuring smile before heading back downstairs.

The house is quiet and dim, streetlights streaming through the boarded windows and giving Phil enough vision to find a bathroom. It’s pretty gross, but the tap works and that’s all Phil really needs. He’s got anti-bacterial wipes and a travel-sized hand sanitizer, so that’ll have to substitute for the lack of soap.

Phil never feels more vulnerable than he does when his sight is impaired and no matter how much he blinks, his reflection doesn’t come into focus. In this moment, trying to get his contacts in their pot without incident because he does not trust this countertop, the lights above the mirror turn on. Phil freezes. Blinks. The lights go back off.

Slowly, he reaches for his glasses case. He can’t hear the click of a lightswitch when the lights keep flickering, which rules out his first suspicion of his friends messing with him.

As soon as Phil has his glasses on his nose, it stops. He blinks at himself in the mirror and waits for the lights to turn back off on their own, but they don’t. His hands are shaking a bit as he digs for his pills. With a deep breath, Phil runs the tap again to drink out of his cupped hands.

“If you’re toying with me,” Phil says to the empty bathroom, “then stop, but if you’re trying to communicate with me... do it again.”

Nothing happens. Phil isn’t sure if he should be relieved or not.

Everything gets shoved back into his rucksack with no ceremony, because Phil needs to be out of this small room as soon as possible. He slings it over his shoulder and heads back to the attic with careful steps, his heart pounding in his ears.

--

Phil doesn’t tell his friends what happened with the lights. It’s such a small thing, could have even been a coincidence, so it doesn’t make much sense to tell them now instead of when they’re all comfortable at the coffee shop again. There’s no point in freaking PJ and Dan out further when they both look like they’re about to crash. They and Sophie are all yawning where they’re curled up on the sleeping bags, in any case, and Phil meets Chris’ eye.

Neither of them are good at sleeping in the best of situations. They always take first watch, and sometimes they don’t end up sleeping at all.

Chris winks and passes Phil a flask. When Phil takes a cautious sip, warm coffee hits his tongue and he hums, wondering when Chris filled this up. It’s good coffee and isn’t making Phil’s heart race, so it’s most likely decaf.

They don’t talk, because PJ is already snoring lightly and Sophie’s head is pillowed on Chris’ thigh. Phil’s friends can fall asleep anywhere. It’s something he’s always been a bit jealous of. He looks down at Dan and feels his heart jump when Dan’s eyes are open and already looking back at him. The red patch on Dan’s cheek appears again, and Phil watches it in fascination.

Dan is pretty. There’s no real denying that one. They give Phil a sheepish little smile at being caught staring and close their eyes, curling close enough that Phil could reach down and smooth the curls off their forehead if he was stupid enough to do so.

He’s not that stupid. He hands Chris’ flask back to him and pulls out his phone instead. It’s looking like it’s going to be a quiet night after all, he can probably get a few more levels of Candy Crush out of the way. As much as Sophie makes fun of him for still playing it in 2019, it’s Phil’s favourite time-waster.

When he looks at Dan again, six levels later, Dan’s eyes are open. They aren’t looking up at Phil anymore, though, they’re just staring blankly at the attic wall and breathing shakily.

“Dan?” Phil murmurs, putting his hand on Dan’s shoulder. Dan doesn’t react. “Er, Dan?”

Dan’s body is so tense and their eyes are so wide, but they don’t say anything. They don’t even twitch. Phil looks over at Chris, who frowns and checks on Sophie in his lap. She’s stiff as a board, Phil suddenly notices - and so is PJ, whose unblinking stare is fixed on the ceiling.

“What the fuck?” Chris asks, tapping Sophie’s face lightly.

“I think this is the sleep paralysis,” says Phil. He gives into the urge to brush Dan’s curls out of their eyes, giving them a small comfort from whatever they’re seeing right now.

“How do we fix it?”

Chris doesn’t panic, because he doesn’t do that, but he looks unsettled in a way that Phil hasn’t seen him before. Phil finds himself wondering, not for the first or the last time, what these people mean to each other for this to rattle Chris so visibly.

“I don’t think we can,” Phil says, pulling his knees to his chest and continuing to run his fingers through Dan’s hair. He’ll apologise if he has to, but he likes to think that he’s helping in some small way. “When Dan told me about this happening, they said that nobody was able to wake the others up. I think we just have to wait it out.”

“I hate that,” says Chris. He laughs humourlessly and cups Sophie’s chin, tilting her face from side to side. “Fuck. It’s like she isn’t even home.”

Phil looks at Dan’s eyes again. They’re the same colour and shape as they’ve been all night, but the warmth and sparkle are completely gone. A shiver runs through Phil at the sight, and he bites his own lip. “Yeah. Yeah, I hate it, too.”

[hyunnielix]

Wrong | 1.

The smell of crime reeked through your city although you were a controlled assassin with limits, you tried your hardest to use your sense of justice to step up and be their vigilante for better or for worse, unfortunately, you have to get involved with the city’s most notorious mobster, Tom Holland.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Y/N | Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Warnings: mob!AU, violence, gore, teasing, swearing, sexual themes, drug references, alcohol abuse, death, assassin!reader

Word Count: 2k

           clothes off ‘cause she so soft

                 this ain’t a fair fight 

            One; The File, Fire & Flames

Echoes whispered through the paper thin walls, the cold breeze flowing through the open windows causing your skin to react, creating small goosebumps as the stealth catsuit you wore barely covered the exposed skin of your upper body. It wasn’t a logical choice really, but you didn’t have a say.

Your stomach churned with a multitude of emotions, unable to pinpoint just one as the tension in the night air grew thicker almost suffocatingly.

Clenching your jaw to suppress any faltering emotions from showing on your face, you strutted confidently in your stiletto heels down the poorly lit hallway and towards his office.

The only light source guiding your way was the iridescent moonlight that shone onto the marble flooring, reflecting onto many of his prized possessions that were on display in glass cases, not too practical.

You recognized the guard as your close colleague Sebastian, nodding to him dismissively as your hand came in contact with the metallic handle twisting it ever so slightly.

“Be careful, he’s not in a good mood,” His calloused hand clasped around your wrist tightly preventing you from entering, ripping your gaze off the patterned wooden door and to him, you forcibly removed his grip. Your faces merely inches apart as you calculated your next words.

“I think I can handle it.” A growl fell from your lips, surprising yourself in the process at your hostility as his eyebrows furrowed, his usual glimmering blue eyes now dull and bloodshot. 

Your lips parted, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat inaudibly before pushing the door open, entering the ‘famed’ room that your colleagues always praised claiming miracles happened in there, but you refused to believe this as your own experiences proved the opposite, knowing how much of a curse it really was.

The skin coloured case file that sat under the table light on the desk was the first thing to catch your eye. Totally ignoring his lingering presence in the room, you strode towards the table inhaling the wretched scent of smoke whilst picking up on the ashtray that embers were still brightly burning out.

Brushing your fingers nimbly over the folder before picking it up, your stomach dropped as your eyes glazed over the file name.

“James, I can’t do this one,” You stated while flicking through the pages of research pausing at the headshot image of the notorious mobster with brunette curls and chocolate eyes, your spine shivered at the mere thought of him.

Usually, the target's weaknesses were listed underneath their name, however, the list was absent from the file causing you to wonder just how deadly this guy really was. How many people had he murdered in cold blood?

“And why is that?” He inquired, his voice coming out hoarser than you’d imagined obviously from the side effects of smoking as he ominously came forward into the light.

His auburn hair was messier than usual, the wrinkles on his forehead and the corners of his mouth more prominent than ever. His eyes scared you the most holding answers to questions you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“I’m not going on a suicide mission,” You retorted, dropping the file onto the desk disinterestedly as possible hoping the slither of mercy he possessed and your ability with words would save you from your inevitable fate if he refused to work with your stubbornness.

“It’s either you or your family,” He shrugged nonchalantly, the words rolling off his tongue too smoothly to be an empty threat. Your throat constricted at the mention of your relatives, chest heaving with what you could now recognize as vexation.

“Y/N, you’re our best operative,” He continued on, attempting to persuade you as he sat comfortably in the chair behind the desk eyeing your every move and reaction to his lethal words. You resented him for turning you into a weapon, once you saw the world that way there was no going back.

“That doesn’t make it right,” You retaliated, slamming your hands onto the desk violently, accidentally denting it with the pressure of your fists. 

“Don’t step out of line now girlie,” He warned, slowly sliding his pistol across the table, the irritating noise of the metal against the wood throwing you off.

Leaning forward, he yanked your forearm down onto the table, bunching his other hand in your hair as he brought your face dangerously close to his

“If you’re not careful, I’ll inject that serum right here,” He hissed, pressing his fingers on your pulse point, your eyes widening as he let out a chuckle at the exact reaction he would hope to coax out of you before throwing your head back.

“You sick bastard, don’t touch me.” You seethed, trying to control your anger by clenching your fists, digging your nails into the palm of your hand and drawing a red substance.

“Sebastian, take her away,” He spat as Sebastian entered the room, pinning your wrists behind your back harshly. You could’ve easily dropped him but you had to earn their trust, no matter how long it took.

“You promised me a call asshole!” You yelled out, striking a nerve in you as you loathed broken promises, you had one too many of them in your life.

“I think it’d be better if they still thought you were dead.” He responded smugly, a smirk creeping onto his face while you struggled against Sebastian's grip restraining you from slapping the smirk off James’s face. He threw you over his shoulder, hauling you out of the room before you did anything else out of recklessness.

“Quite a nice little performance you put in on there doll, I’m impressed,” He commented while locking the door behind him, letting you crawl off him, your heels coming in contact with the ground again.

“Not all of that was a performance,” You mumbled, peering up at him with glazed over eyes unsure of how to handle your bubbling over emotions properly as you were never quite taught how it was one of your weaknesses.

“The only way you’re going to get out of here is to kill him and burn that contract,” He sighed, running his hand over his light stubble as he watched the cogs turn in your very complicated mind.

“What right do you have to tell me how to escape? when I've been here longer than you,” You spat, pointing your finger into his chest with every syllable pronounced out of pure spite.

“Y/N tread carefully, I’m the only person willing to help you here you don’t want to lose that.” He crossed his arms over his chest, glad that the room behind him was soundproof as he stated the facts.

“Do you?” He questioned, but you knew too much was at stake to be retaliating against him just because you were in a bad mood so you swallowed your pride begrudgingly.

Cursing under your breath, you turned away from him pondering your options as you grazed your fingers over the bleeding palm of your hand revelling in the sting it caused. Pain brought out your most undesired emotions.

“I’ll have the file delivered to your room tomorrow morning,” He informed you as to your lack of reply left a lot of questions, for him anyway.

“I want it tonight.” You sharply ordered beginning to strut down the atmospheric corridor again, away from Sebastian and that bastard James.

The multilayered manor you lived in, which some people would call a paradise was more like a jail cell to you. Staring at the many different prototypes of latex catsuits that hung in your closet a sigh left your lips. From what you gathered the city had dubbed you ‘Black Cat’. The number of reports and televised criticism on you was deafening to your ego however you expected this, you knew how the world thought about vigilantes. Especially the corrupted police that pathetically called themselves the justice system, because of them media outlets were desperate to figure out your alter ego, much to your dismay. James kept them off your tail for the pure reason of entertainment.

Propping yourself up on your bed, your sensitive ears picked up the sliding of something under your door. Head snapping towards the direction, you furrowed your brows at the skin coloured file that lay strewn about on the tiles. The silver and reflective name of Tom Holland shining into your eyes irritatingly so.

Picking it up, you opened the file pulling out the paperclipped sheets of paper that had valuable information about his background on it. Your eyes scanned over the first page. After an hour or so of breaking down his profile, you found some crucially important points; He never went anywhere without his right-hand man Harrison Osterfield, His whole familiar were involved in the drug industry which also made them one of his weaknesses or so you assumed yet it was dangerous to do so in situations like this and he had an affinity for strippers that didn’t surprise you.

Dominic and Nikki Holland were out of the picture, none of their limbs or bodies intact enough to be autopsied. They had both left on a train to negotiate their next payload when it exploded, the assassination attempt deemed successful. You recognized the symbol on the detonated bomb realising it was James’s handiwork.

The Holland twins, Harry and Sam were both trained in hand to hand combat obviously it wasn’t military training but the second best thing. Luckily one of them had a girlfriend but you weren’t going to notify James about that since he would go to desperate lengths to torture people for fun and use them as leverage, you had firsthand experience in that. 

Claire Hope, 19 Ridgewood Drive, imprinting the address in your memory you resealed the document. It was the appropriate occasion to utilize the stealth suit for this slight detour.

Zipping up the suit whilst standing on the ledge of the windowsill, you inhaled the stale but refreshing air of the night letting the iridescent moonlight beam onto your face, eyes fluttering shut in a moment of contentedness.

Turning on the balls of your feet, you positioned your arms in a T movement allowing yourself to plummet backward without a single hesitation in your action due to your cat-like reflexes.

The masks built in GPS proved its efficiency in times like this, tracking targets became easier with each new piece of manufactured tech James had stolen.

Scaling the roofs was the effortless section of the mission as you concentrated your focus on following the crimson arrowhead that guided you to the address through the mask, allowing you to do so without any unwanted interruptions.

As you began to accelerate approaching the girl’s house, boisterous ear-piercing sirens could be heard ringing out. A screech ripping through your throat as it threw you off. Dropping down low onto the roof as you accidentally gained the attention of the people swarming around the house. Familiar scarlet and azure-tinted lights flickered around continuously on a loop.

“Fucking cops.” You hissed under your breath, eyes widening interestedly as an ambulance pulled up outside of the house, the shrill and frantic yelling of the paramedics almost deafening. You’d think they’d be trained in situations like this to handle it calmly.

Watching intently as paramedics exited the house, you noticed the young woman you could recognize as Claire having an intense seizure on the stretcher.

“She’s going into cardiac arrest!” The male exclaimed signalling the others to aid him, getting ready to perform CPR as they placed the stretcher onto the gravelly ground of the pavement, their covered hands on her chest putting pressure there every couple of seconds.

Your breath hitched as the sudden realization hit you, you weren’t the only one assigned to this mission.

You ears pricked up as the smallest clinging noise caught your attention, squinting your eyes you saw a shiny gold encrusted ring next to her lifeless hand that must’ve slipped off as they placed her body onto the ground enticing you even more than before. Was she apart of the 7 rings?

[murasaki-murasame]

Thoughts on Fruits Basket 2019 Episode 17: “This Is For Uo-chan!”

At this point it feels like it goes without saying that this episode was incredibly good, but it really was. They took an already great arc from the manga and fleshed it out into something even better.

Thoughts under the cut.

Since this just covers the second half of the whole Uo backstory arc, pretty much everything I said last week still applies, and there’s not really a whole lot of entirely new points for me to even talk about with this episode, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a great episode.

Anyway, this episode specifically adapted the second half of chapter 40, and then all of chapter 41. After the last episode it was pretty clear they weren’t going to try and splice chapter 50 into this arc to introduce Kureno early, and now that this arc’s done I think it was entirely for the best for them to just focus on this arc alone. Even if it makes me kinda unsure how they plan on fitting that chapter into things once season 2 comes around, lol.

Especially with where it looks like season 1 will end, I think people who only watched the 2001 anime and at least have a good memory of it can probably still skip most of this first season if they don’t want to go over the same content again, but at the very least I think everyone owes it to themselves to watch this arc, since the 2001 anime only vaguely touched upon Uo’s backstory in like one scene early on. Similarly, I think anime-only people will also really want to watch Hana’s backstory episode once the reboot gets to it later in this season, but we’ll get to that when it comes. But either way this arc is the best example of how much more content and depth the reboot has compared to the 2001 anime, and why it’d be a bad idea to just entirely skip to season 2 just because you don’t want to rewatch a lot of similar material.

I think this arc in particular shows off how much the people working on this show clearly love the manga and want to do it justice. A lot of what’s been adapted so far is stuff that was already adapted before in the 2001 anime, so the reboot staff’s personal touches on it have been more subtle, but this is basically the first time we’ve gotten a whole arc adapted for the very first time, so you can really get a feel for their vision through it.

One of the things that’s stuck out to me the most about these two episodes is how much detail was put into the background art and scenery. Which has been true for the entire show, but it feels distinctly noticeable in this arc since it has a much darker tone to everything else. All of the moody urban landscapes with dark shadows and artificial lighting and whatnot just look really great, and give so much atmosphere to those scenes. The montage of environmental shots when Uo was thinking to herself about the sort of atmosphere she longs for was also pretty memorable for how atmospheric it was.

On top of the fact that this whole arc is all about developing Uo as a character and making it clear to the audience that this series is an ensemble cast type of thing that cares about all of it’s characters, not just Tohru and the Somas, it’s also been really great, for anime-only people in particular, how this arc has made Kyoko’s presence even more concrete, and her death even more painful. We’ve seen a lot of her thus far through flashbacks, but this is the first time where we also get to know her outside of the context of just being Tohru’s mother, which makes her into even more of a three-dimensional character who the audience can connect with.

It’s one of the big reasons why I think everyone should watch this arc even if they watched the 2001 anime, and also why I’m glad they moved this up a fair bit rather than having it only happen in season 2. It’s good to establish Uo as a character in this first third or so of the story that’s all about character introductions [same for Hana, who’s backstory happened even later than Uo’s, but is seemingly also getting put in this season], but it’s also good to really hammer in early on how big of a deal Kyoko was, and how drastic the impact of her death was. It’s very fitting that they moved this arc to just being a few episodes after the part where they visited her grave.

For better or worse, the 2001 anime didn’t do quite as much to make Kyoko into much more than a ‘dead anime parent’, but the reboot’s really been going all out with her. Most of it’s just a matter of them actually adapting the whole series, and moving some content up from later on, but the original scenes they added early on that gave her more screen-time were also really good.

Even though I already knew what’d happen in this episode from having read the manga, I still ended up being kinda surprised at how much it made me think about the idea of food, and the role it plays in people’s relationships with each other. I think the anime makes it a much more prominent theme in this episode, from that one shot of the muffins Tohru made, to the scene at the end that puts a lot of focus on Uo cooking dinner for her dad. I never really put much thought into it in the manga, but it really struck a chord with me here in the anime.

This might sound like a weird take-away from it, but I think the idea of food as a symbol of love and bonding is overrated and misguided, and in a sense that’s exactly why I really liked how it was handled in this episode.

The part that really got me thinking about it was when Uo was thinking about the atmosphere she wanted, and when she was comparing her home environment to Tohru and Kyoko. Specifically, the part where she was thinking about how even if her father made her dinner, she still wouldn’t be able to enjoy it, even though logically there should be no difference between her father making food for her, and Kyoko and Tohru making food for her.

It’s actually something that I’ve thought about a lot in the context of my own life, specifically in terms of my very different relationships with my parents. I often felt kind of guilty and strange about how I enjoyed eating food at home with my mother more than I ever did when I was visiting my father. The funny thing is, I don’t even eat dinner as a family with my mother and the rest of my immediate family. That’s only ever been something I’ve done with my father’s side of the family. So I’ve always thought that I should enjoy that sort of family bonding more than I actually did, since everyone treats it as the pinnacle of familial bonding and how family members express their love.

But the thing is that the food is only as important as the actual relationship that it’s a part of. It can’t be a good symbol of love if the environment surrounding it isn’t good. It’s not even like food is the only thing that families can bond over and express love through.

So I really relate to Uo’s frustration and confusion about why she feels so differently about Kyoko and Tohru’s household and what they provide her compared to her father. No amount of home-cooked meals were going to mend her relationship with her father and make the entire home environment less toxic and stifling for her. And Kyoko and Tohru didn’t even need to give her meals to make her feel loved. What she wanted most of all was just love, understanding, and human connection, and that was the actual main difference between the two families.

It’s not like this was even a major theme in the episode, but I thought it was really interesting, especially since it only really came across to me now through this adaptation. It’s mostly just a small detail that I personally relate to a lot, and it makes me really empathize with Uo and the way in which she comes to understand what it is that she really wants from a family.

I wasn’t even expecting to make a whole effort-post about this sort of topic of all things, but here we are, lol.

Anyway, before I forget, I also wanna say that I also loved this week’s post-credits scene just as much as last week’s one. I’m gonna be kinda sad if these delinquent girls never show up again. I mean, I know that even in the manga there’s one scene later on where they show up, but still. The anime’s making them way more fun and memorable. That final shot of the main girl wearing an Uo cosplay and the screen going greyscale as her wig starts to slide off was amazing. It really feels like having such comedic post-credits scenes should feel more jarring after how dramatic this arc was, but it really works.

That’s about it for this episode, and it looks like as we all expected, the next episode will be Kisa’s intro. I’m pretty excited for it, even though I’ve never had strong feelings for her as a character one way or another.

We also got a trailer recently for the second half of season 1, and oh boy I sure can’t wait to die and be dead when we get to the Kyo arc :))))

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG144!

- I’m… really fond of the statement’s atmosphere, and Martin’s reading of it: he did emphasise a few words right at the beginning, giving them more heaviness, bloating them and completely installing the crushing dragging feeling of decay/dullness/spleen/boredom and degradation.

(And then: nervous laughter about the fact that OOOOOOOOOOOOOPS, the statement itself might have reminded Martin of some elements of his own personal life, uh. Caring for a sick (unsupportive) parent, getting stuck in a situation with them but worrying anyway (+ Gary Boylan feared that he would become his father and… well, We Know That Martin Looks Like His Dad), until the parent died on them while they were getting involved with Spooks.)

- So. There was a big emphasis, in the statement, about the code itself, and the fact that what lay behind was the actually horrifying things… but there was still a “message” and things actually struck when Gary Boyle understood it.

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “I didn’t return to the pylon for a long time, except to confirm that the numbers weren’t changing between days. I had them though, and the numbers were all that mattered. I didn’t know why. I’m sure there wasn’t a reason, not really, but… I knew it was in there…! Realistically, it would be impossible to decode it without whatever key the cipher might have been using – and honestly, for the longest time, it seemed to be. I did as much reading as I could on cryptography, and codebreaking, and all of it seemed to point me towards one simple conclusion: breaking this code by myself was… simply impossible. But I still tried. I spent weeks in my room, desperately applying every method I had available. Nothing worked. But I didn’t stop. The alternative was looking after my dad, whose recent breathing issues had left him more ratty than ever. So, I worked myself into exhaustion instead, staring at those meaningless strings of numbers until I almost collapsed, and my eyes couldn’t focus on anything. And that was when I realised: it wasn’t the numbers. It wasn’t the code. It’s what was behind the numbers, shifting, and waiting, and–and coming towards me like a tidal wave – and I knew what the message was, the urgent and terrible message. About the destruction that was coming on the heels of mankind; about the cold and cruel warmongers who play their games of code, and conspiracy, hidden behind the endless streams of numbers. And within those numbers are all of our dooms. If you know how to read them. And I read them. I read them all, and saw the doom of everyone who lives, and breathes, and hopes for life and happiness. There are terrible things coming. Things that if we knew of them, would leave us weak, and trembling, with shuddering terror at the knowledge that they are coming for all of us. We all made them, and their course is already plotted. You can see them in the numbers. If you’d only learn how to read them.”

I wonder: did Gary himself power The Extinction (or whatever it is) with his own fears? Because it’s when he understood that a disaster was meant to happen that it… happened. If he had just carried on with his life, would it have happened? Or was everything set into motion because he heard the words and spiralled into dread/doom?

Because… if the code was, in the end, relevant and important… I’m kind of super-glad that MARTIN read this statement; and there is someone who should probably not read it ever. Because, who is canonically good at breaking down codes (probably through insta-translating Beholding abilities)…?

(MAG126) ARCHIVIST: … I remembered Gertrude’s notebook; we found it alongside the plastic explosives, but it rather got lost amongst the business of… [SIGH] saving the world at the cost of two lives… It… it’s borderline incomprehensible, not because of any code or cypher – there’s every chance I could read those; just simply because… most of it is… numbers or fragments of sentences that would no doubt mean something to her, but… well, not to me.

… Like, OOPS. I’m not sure it was a coincidence.

(…………. And if Martin read the numbers himself… will he be okay. Or is he unleashing… something, without being aware of it, too.)

- Aaaand we live in such a fandom that someone had already managed to decode the thing in half a day! The numbers:

593756 3058392846 4749 162830165049 564846474827

Actually formed the message “The World Is Always Ending”. Indeed less… personal than The End, here. (But the message itself is kind of… comforting? I mean, it’s like life overall: you know something is living because it’s heading towards its death. Of course the World/the Earth isn’t supposed to be permanent…? Or is it linked to the consciousness that we’re accelerating its decay, or that it absolutely disappearing would mean making things disappear as concepts, too – nobody, nothing, to remember anything, that anyone ever existed in the first place…?)

(- Amusingly, I did think of Beholding with Gary’s whole… stance:

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “There was nothing to be done, nowhere to go – just watch, and wait, and think about the decay of it all.

And the fact that his main activity was to listen to the numbers. He kind of checked all three points of the Institute’s motto?

And why did he give his statement? It’s not always the case but, pretty often, statement-givers do explain why they wanted to share their stories – because they were seeking help, or pursued, or feared that they were suffering from hallucinations, etc. Here, it was as a… non-personal warning? But he spread the numbers and that doesn’t sound very good…)

- Gary did warn about the Danger of knowing (because it doesn’t help) but. But Beholding’s shtick is apparently also to cannibalise other Fears a bit by Knowing about them:

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “There are terrible things coming. Things that if we knew of them, would leave us weak, and trembling, with shuddering terror at the knowledge that they are coming for all of us. We all made them, and their course is already plotted.”

(MAG032, Jane Prentiss) “There is no right word because for all your Institute and ignorance may laud the power of the word, it cannot even stretch to fully capture what I feel in my bones. What possible recourse could there be for me in your books and files and libraries except more useless ink and dying letters? I see now why The Hive hates you. You can see it and log it and note its every detail but you can never understand it. You rob it of its fear even though your weak words have no right to do so.”

Is that why Peter needed a Beholding-touched person? Because Beholding could understand the new fear and depower it a bit…?

- I did my usual relisten of “Binary”, since we got new information about The Extinction, and I’m still at a loss for that one and not… really feeling that it fits The Extinction? It feels more personal, more… people-oriented than concerning a community/the world? Or was the “message” of that one in the symbols appearing on Tessa’s computer and/or about the danger of Sergei’s fate possibly happening to others…? In Jon’s dreams, she’s seen typing furiously, trying to “fight” against the computer:

(MAG120) ELIAS: The Archivist waits, expecting to awaken, but there is nowhere for him to awaken to; no avenue of escape from these dreams. He turns to see the familiar screen, the familiar woman beneath it. She looks up at him with an expression of recognition and weary dread. She types, and types, and types her fingers a blur, flying across the keyboard, and yet never fast enough to outrun the relentless words that flow like dark water across the screen that stretches off into the sky. “It hurts.” She is shaking her head, defiant in her well-worn terror, and tries with every corner of her will to force back the rolling tide of words. “It hurts.”

Tessa’s reasoning about how a human brain isn’t made to fit in a computer, and that analog and digital operate differently, could fit The Extinction… but not the spooks she experienced herself, I feel? Was that just plain old regular Spiral, or something Web/Beholding, or The End? Or was it truly Extinction/the same larger fear that encompasses it?

- If we take “Binary” into account, there has been an acceleration of the manifestation of the Extinction through time:

* End of 1867: Garland Hillier disappears after a last publication, “Les Héritiers”, the same year Robert Smirke died (MAG134). [* 1983: According to the urban legend, Sergei Ushanka, who was dying, tried to upload his mind into a computer (MAG065).] * Some time before late 2005 (which is when Adelard Dekker heard about her): Bernadette Delcour entered Garland Hillier’s flat and witnessed the world of the Inheritors before managing to get out – Adelard suspects that she might have disappeared too, by January 2006 (MAG134). * In August 2009: Gary Boylan heard the “Numbers” track near a pylon somewhere in the English countryside; his father and neighbour were eradicated (MAG144). * Around 2012: Adelard didn’t think that The Extinction had begun to take Avatars yet (MAG113). [* Before January 7th 2017: Tessa Winters downloaded a program named “ushankasdespair.exe”, which forced her to watch him swallow his computer for 17 hours (MAG065).]

So, indeed giving the feeling that… something is getting closer and closer.

- Something that MAG134 and MAG144 have in common: the fact that the manifestations were linked to a form of communication (Garland’s diary and overall works, the numbers heard by Gary), in specific places (Garland’s flat, the pylon in Gary’s countryside), places that were specifically described as… frozen in time / unmoving compared to the world around them:

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “On the fifth floor of an apartment building on the rue Lagarde, near the Panthéon, some construction workers had uncovered a door, that had at some point in the past been completely plastered over. Removing the covering and breaking through the old wood revealed another apartment, one apparently unnoticed by any of the other residents, or indeed the owners of those sections of the building, each of which had assumed the space was owned by one of the others, and connected to a different part. As far as anyone was able to determine, the apartment had been sitting there, sealed and undisturbed, for almost a hundred and fifty years. It was untouched, pristine, with barely a thin layer of fine dust coating the possessions and belongings that had stayed there for so long. […] The place felt strange, she told me. Like a tiny pocket of another time. A bubble, where the world had never changed. And stepping inside, she almost felt like she would never change either. Even the light that came through the window seemed to be of a different quality, muted and gentle. The street chatter of Paris, which usually reaches all but the most remote of windows, seemed to vanish entirely. There was a sense of peace to it all, shot through with a strand of disquiet – a wrongness, she told me she could not identify, but she could almost smell it. […] Every single shrivelled ashened face was contorted in a scream of agony, every sharp and jutting jaw cracked and twisted in an expression of horror – of understanding not just of their death, but the end of everything they knew. It was clear that they had been this way for years, if not decades. Bernadette says she was sure that nothing had moved in that dead city for a hundred years.”

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “Something kept me rooted there, sleeping in a bedroom that hadn’t changed since I was fifteen, and caring for a man who I’d rather just shut up…! [SIGH] We were both… trapped there, I think. Bound together in a sort of wordless misery. I would look at him, and see a grim sort of destiny for myself: trapped here, until I became him – any future I might have had, sacrificed to his. […] That summer seemed to drag on forever. The boredom and irritation of trying to care for my dad was only heightened by the weather, and we were both feeling it. Just didn’t have anything to do…! I don’t… really want to go into my living situation here, but it’s enough to say I wasn’t working a regular job and, while I could theoretically contact my old mates, they’d all got on with their lives without me. The world had moved on. … I was left behind.”

Places/people that feel like they can’t change or move forwards, while everything else does. (And we’ve had so many talks about people “changing” this season… Mmmmm…)

Note to self that with the beginning of the statement, I did wonder if it wasn’t Something Lonely – we were dealing with isolated places, the statement-giver was spending a lot of time alone and wasn’t… really connected to anybody, there was “the huge metal skeleton of an old disconnected power pylon” in the background – pylon which turned out to be the place where the numbers could be heard… So, mmmm… Why is Peter, avatar of The Lonely, specifically so invested in stopping that newcomer…?

- Outside of the RQ-extended-universe crossover inside-joke about “DOOOM”, I feel like Gary Boylan’s use of the word might be especially relevant because… he specifically differentiated it from “dread”.

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “Do you know that one of the symptoms of a heart attack is literally a sense of impending doom? [INHALE] Well, I wasn’t having a heart attack, but I think I know what they mean…! What settled over me wasn’t dread; there wasn’t enough uncertainty for that. No. It was… doom. I was certain that some sort of disaster was on the horizon. […] And within those numbers are all of our dooms. If you know how to read them.”

… and “dread” was the word that Robert Smirke personally used to refer to the Fears:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I have been blessed with a long life, something few who crossed paths with the Dread Powers can boast, but now… at the end of it, my true fear is that I have wasted it, chasing an impossible dream. […] I have been thinking, of late, about the first origin of the Dread Powers, if… such beings can really be said to have true origins. Are they eternal, or are they created from our own fear, by some grand accident – or, worse: some grand design? I believe the latter to be the case, as you well know, for I have in vain struggled to reconcile their creation with the existence of a Loving God.”

It's possible that Smirke’s vocabulary was… too restrictive, but I do wonder if… in context, it isn’t hinting that The Extinction-or-whatever-it-is isn’t actually a Fifteenth Fear, but something operating too differently from the others…?

- I’ll never get tired of Martin’s… little troubles when introducing statements – it never goes smoothly, he marks small pauses, has troubles reading the numbers, etc., compared to Jon’s… seamless professional voice (… except when some of his emotions are showing: sometimes impatience, sometimes… listen, when he introduced the statement in MAG129? He was still brooding SO MUCH after the disaster of a conversation he had had with Martin shortly before). In the same way, I… love how Martin’s own speculation is so awkward and potentially off the mark afterwards? Reminder that Martin barely remembered the name “Maxwell Rayner” in MAG098, and he sounded SO PROUD in MAG110 when he was able to guess that The Spooky Book Mentioned Had Probably Been A Leitner (“I mean… I think it sounds like a Jurgen Leitner book. About spiders. Hm.” mARTIN that was an easy guess… x””D); and in the same way, his conclusions in MAG138 were… a bit awkward compared to the content of the statement:

(MAG134) MARTIN: Anyway. Smirke was clearly wrong about the powers balancing each other, at least. I mean, i–it’s, [SHORT LAUGHTER] it’s obviously impossible. There’s too much variation in, in how much something is feared by people at any one time. And, and if that’s the case, I… suppose it’s… not impossible that Peter… [LONG PAUSE] might be telling the truth. I don’t know what he’s talking about when he mentions Millbank. The old prison, I guess? Tim said the tunnels under the Institute were all that was left of it, but… Jon said he’d checked them pretty thoroughly. 

(M… Martin, what “other Millbank” do you think it could be, given the discussions/researches in the Archives………………….) To his credit, he was trying to guess why Peter had given him this statement, so he had a certain Way Of Looking At Things, but. Still. Smirke’s statement wasn’t really about the “variations” of how people experience fear(s)…? And in the same way:

(MAG144) MARTIN: Statement ends. [CLEARS THROAT] [INHALE, EXHALE] … Right. Another… statement. Another side to… Peter’s “Extinction”. I think. I… Y– I– [HUFF] I, I couldn’t follow some of his reasoning, but I think it was about… nuclear weapons, or… or maybe doomsday’s weapons…? In keeping with the theme, I suppose.

Martin miiight be paying too much attention to concreteness and things he Already Knows, and failing hard to essentialise and theorise…? Obviously, yes, the symptoms evoke the destruction caused by nuclear weapons, both in MAG134 and MAG144 (destruction, corpses melting/being absolutely blasted), but the Fear itself… is something broader, probably? (So: is he accidentally absolutely spot-on? Or totally off the mark, and the fact that he went with “nuclear weapons” mean it isn’t this, at all?)

- ;; It has been a constant in season 4 when we have Martin’s statements and Jon’s statements: they… would both progress much better if they had access to each other’s statement.

MAG134’s (Smirke’s letter to Jonah) would have helped Jon to define a bit more Jonah’s whole character, after MAG127, and potentially retrace what happened to him – Jon labelled him as already “evil” in the 1830s, but turned out that he had apparently taken a step back, before falling deeper into Beholding shortly before 1867, apparently because he was afraid to die (… does that remind you of something, Jon?). Plus, indication towards the Watcher’s Crown. Meanwhile, Jon… learned that Adelard had helped Gertrude to stop The Flesh’s ritual in 2008, and could have pointed out a few old statements: MAG078 where Adelard tried to trap the Not!Them with the table and, more importantly, MAG113 where Adelard mistook an End avatar for an Extinction thing (… and we’re still not sure What The Heck  “Binary” was, but Jon could have pointed to MAG065… in case Tessa’s experience was related). And Jon could maybe just Know a few things, and help overall.

But they don’t communicate, they’re in their own bubbles, and information isn’t getting shared right now. (Though Martin was planning to communicate his tapes to Jon… MAG138, especially, could be helpful to deal with the Institute on its own…)

- I love Jon’s reading, alright, and I love Martin’s too for different reasons. He tends to put more emphasis in words, bloating some here and there? He gets so nasal sometimes? So casually sassy? Jon often has an edge, but Martin… Martin feels Less Charitable in his delivery and I love it. AND I ESPECIALLY LOVED:

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “Something kept me rooted there, sleeping in a bedroom that hadn’t changed since I was fifteen, and caring for a man who I’d rather just shut up…!”

That. That “Shut up!” was so Beautiful And Martin.

- I’M SO EMOTIONAL OVER THE FACT THAT DAISY AND MARTIN ARE BECOMING KINDA FRIENDS WITH MAG142 AND MAG144… and then kinda nop. But the fact that Daisy was comfortable enough to come back, to share with Jon that she had talked with Martin, and that she wanted to give information about him (/them) to Martin in return… ;w;

(MAG144) [KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.] MARTIN: [SHORT SHAKY INHALE] [SILENCE] [KNOCK–KNOCK–KNOCK] MARTIN: [RUFFLING PAPER] Come in. [DOOR OPENS.] DAISY: Mind if I join you? [SCRIBBLING SOUNDS START.] [DOOR CLOSES] DAISY: They’re back. I thought you might wanna know. [INHALE] Seems like it went smooth – too smooth for Basira, sounds like. Keeps looking at Jon like she can’t believe he made it back. [SILENCE] I, uh… I mentioned our conversation to him; he asked me to check on– MARTIN: Just leave. DAISY: Sorry? MARTIN: [INHALE] Get out. DAISY: Oh. Right. Sorry, I didn’t– MARTIN: It’s not difficult! Just get out! DAISY: Fine. … Fine. Just thought you– MARTIN: No! No, you didn’t! [DOOR OPENS.] We’re not… we’re not friends, Daisy! None of us are! We’re all just trapped together, here, and–and kidding ourselves that we don’t hate it! Christ, there are more important things than, than “feelings”– DAISY: [INCREDULOUS EXHALE] MARTIN: –right now, alright, so just… leave me alone! For good! [SILENCE PUNCTUATED BY AGGRESSIVE SCRIBBLING NOISES] DAISY: … Right. You got it. [DOOR CLOSES]

The things Martin said… were very reminiscent of Tim’s own reasoning (and the overall idea that Tim… did feel trapped, and insisted on it, and was adamant about reminding everyone of that fact):

(MAG079) TIM: There is something in this place, and it’s messing up our heads. It watches us all the time. It stops me quitting. I’m pretty sure it would stop Elias firing Jon even if he decided to actually try running this place for once. MARTIN: You’re sure you don’t just want to stay? TIM: I’m. sure. MARTIN: But, like, deep down– TIM: No. MARTIN: … Oh. […] TIM: I… I’m not just going to leave you down here. MARTIN: You were all about quitting. TIM: Oh, for God’s sake, this isn’t about you. MARTIN: It never is. TIM: Alright, fine. Fine. What do you want? What’s your light at the end of these spooky damn tunnels? And don’t say “everyone happy forever”, because that’s not happening. … Well? MARTIN: I don’t know. I don’t know! I want to find out what’s going on. I want to save Jon. I want everyone to be fine and, you know what? If we were all happy that wouldn’t actually be the end of the world!

(MAG102) ARCHIVIST: Does the rest of the Institute know what’s going on down here? I mean, I never really paid attention, but… MARTIN: N–not really? I think? I mean, Tim’s been going on about it to anyone who listens, but I think they just… think he’s had a bit of a breakdown. ARCHIVIST: Well, I mean… MARTIN: I mean, they can quit.

And it also was a bit reminiscent of Gary Boylan’s own situation in his statement (MAG144: “We were both… trapped there, I think. Bound together in a sort of wordless misery.”). I’m not sure, then, that we should believe everything Martin told Daisy, especially since he pointed out to Peter that he had purposely wanted to drive Daisy away… partially to prevent Peter from wooshing her:

(MAG144) [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] MARTIN: [LONG SIGH] … Well? PETER: I’m impressed! And grateful. MARTIN: I didn’t do it for you. PETER: Even better. MARTIN: … It’s easier, this way. I’m sure you’d have had no problem sending her away. PETER: I hadn’t really thought about it. And now, thanks to you, I don’t need to. MARTIN: Yeah, well. It seems to be your go-to move for dealing with anyone.

He… did tell Daisy that there were “more important things than feelings right now”, and it’s heart-breaking when taking into account that he AGGRESSIVELY (and so beautifully snappily.) wanted people to be Happy at the end of season 2… but I want to Believe in Martin being good at Manipulating people in the direction he wants. Martin has a history of weaponising his own feelings when it served his purpose: he knows how to use them against others, and it’s precisely how he managed to make Elias do exactly what he needed, in MAG118 – it’s because he had Feelings that it worked. But at the same time, I do think a bit of truth might be sneaking out, even in this case, and that Martin’s own bitterness… might be showing some of his true feelings, too. To put it more simply: I heard the exchange and Martin making Daisy leave as a conscious move from his part, focusing on the goal… but I’m not sure that all of his words were faked and false. And that might be another danger of The Lonely, too? That Martin pushing people away and thinking he is in control… might lead to him falling deeper into The Lonely, because he’s cutting ties and working alone. There is something so dangerous in thinking that you’re friends with people, that you care for them… while you refuse to share anything anymore with them, push them away constantly, only know them from afar and dread more and more to interact with them. And I’m not sure that Martin is taking that into account as much as he should. What is the point of sacrificing himself to protect others if it makes everyone miserable in the process, including him?

- One glimmer of hope is that it had been pointed out, during their last interaction, that Daisy was “observant”:

(MAG142) MARTIN: … Yeah. [LONG INHALE] I suppose. [LONG EXHALE] You’re… you’re pretty observant, you know? DAISY: Detective, remember? MARTIN: Yeah, you did mention.

Daisy showed that she was good at paying attention, reading people and their feelings. So she might be able to correctly interpret what Martin said, and guess that… Peter was around. Martin did talk like a hostage trying to make another bystander leave before they’d get involved (he’d sounded like that with Jon, already, in MAG129).

(But I’m worried that Daisy might feel let down by him at the same time, and take his words at face value despite it all? ;;)

(… Another option: MAG142 ended with the tape recorder being cut off, while Martin and Daisy were still together and talking. So it’s possible that they strategised a bit after that about how to act/behave, and about the fact that Peter can turn invisible, and that Daisy knows a bit more about Martin’s whole situation. I don’t know ;; I’m stupidly hoping that Team Archives could finally manage to… plan together… and achieve things…)

- I’m so glad that Daisy has been around……………… She tried to act as a bridge between Jon and Martin, between the two Main Threads of the season 4, and? It’s really not what you would have expected from her when she first appeared in MAG061, and with her whole attitude in season 3, aaaaah…

(- And OOPS over the fact that Martin, who had decided to be cold and dry since the beginning of their scene (aggressively scribbling and pointedly… not making it sound like he’s available: the message was clearly that he was busy and she was bothering him and unwanted)… snapped and exploded and cut her off when she mentioned Jon and Jon using Daisy to get to him. Aouch. Is it that he’s unallowed anything Jon as far as Peter is concerned? Or because Martin really wants to prevent Peter from focusing on Jon?)

(- Also! Martin was chill with Daisy talking with him in MAG142, but not here in MAG144. Is it because now, he likes Daisy and wants to protect her, while he didn’t care in MAG142 because… he didn’t know much about Daisy’s actual personality outside of The Hunt? Or is it because Martin is beginning to be able to tell when Peter is spying on him, and when he isn’t? He directly addressed Jon through the tape at the end of MAG138, implying that he assumed that he was safe from Peter back then (he tried to lure him out and Peter didn’t manifest… but that wasn’t a guarantee). Here, he didn’t slip anything and was expecting Peter to pop up, from the start. So: can he feel it, now?)

- Peter’s logic is… so frightening:

(MAG144) PETER: I’m impressed! And grateful. MARTIN: I didn’t do it for you. PETER: Even better. MARTIN: … It’s easier, this way. I’m sure you’d have had no problem sending her away. PETER: I hadn’t really thought about it. And now, thanks to you, I don’t need to. […] Oh! Speaking of which: I’ve had a report of a workplace dispute in the library, and I would value your input. I’m trying to get out of the habit of, what did you call it…? “Sending them away”? MARTIN: [SIGH] … Fine.

It’s… really that Martin is trapped in this situation where only he can damage-control Peter, and they both know it, and Peter uses it fully to get Martin close and wrapped around his little finger, too (although Martin still snaps a lot and nags Peter and unleashes his pettiness at him in return). And Martin had already told Jon, during their last exchange:

(MAG129) ARCHIVIST: At least, The Eye hasn’t gone after our own. Lukas has vanished two people! MARTIN: Yeah, and if it wasn’t for me, it would’ve been a lot more. [SILENCE] This isn’t helping anything.

And… Martin was right back then ;; (And Peter probably wooshed these two people just for Martin to know that he could prevent it if he just… complied and stayed around and kept a close eye on Peter and did all his work. Martiiiiiin, you’re so absolutely stuck in an abusive relationship…)

- (not) SMOOTH, PETER, (not) SMOOTH:

(MAG134) PETER: Martin… My patron, hopefully our patron someday, doesn’t give me any sort of special insights. I’m not quite the accomplished voyeur that Elias was. I have to keep tabs on things the old-fashioned way. MARTIN: What, turning invisible and eavesdropping? PETER: If you like. But… I’m only one person, and I can’t keep an eye on everything.

(MAG138) MARTIN: I think he wants me to join The Lonely. ELIAS: Then it sounds like you have a decision to make.

(MAG144) PETER: I’m just not big on confrontation. You understand, I’m sure. MARTIN: We. Are not. The same. PETER: Of course. […] MARTIN: So what’s our next step? PETER: For you, keep researching. I’m sure we haven’t found all the statements in here that deal with The Extinction yet. One of the downsides of not serving The Ceaseless Watcher is that we have to actually look things up. Not to… mention the fact that Gertrude was distressingly good at obfuscation. The more you know about our enemy, the better.

… he slightly stressed that last “we” and it sounds like he absolutely does count Martinas being on the same side as him now and… not much as a Beholding agent? Getting hunches and being directed towards statements is Jon’s thing but the way Peter was dividing Beholding things and how he himself (and Martin alike) has to operate was a bit striking… ;;

(- On that note: I’m curious about how Peter mentions that Gertrude “was distressingly good at obfuscation” – we knew that already, right, but… Adelard’s letter in MAG113 (circa 2012) explicitly stated that Gertrude was “dismissive” of the possibility of a New Threat, and Adelard had chronologically already labelled it as The Extinction to her (MAG134’s letter is from 2009). Yet, Peter is assuming that Gertrude hid the information around the new Fear on purpose? Is it because Peter doesn’t know (yet) about the fact that Gertrude didn’t believe in it (and Gertrude might have accidentally labelled this and that statement with other Fears’ stamps), or did Gertrude… actually get more concerned about it, in her last years, and hide information on purpose…?)

- Re: Peter’s distaste for Confrontation and his implications that Martin is the same… it makes sense as a Lonely thing, but also: it… isn’t Very Martin, in fact? Because Martin held back, but he also did end up confronting people here and there – exploding at Jon in MAG039, nagging him into eating, orchestrating The Intervention, and trying to get him to talk to Tim in season 2, exploding in front of Tim in MAG079, literally confronting Elias in MAG118. But at the same time: it’s true that it Takes A Lot for Martin to finally snap.

But the thing about being non-confrontational is not exclusively Lonely and I’m reminded of these moments in relation to Martin:

(MAG138) MARTIN: … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people! ELIAS: That makes two of us.

(MAG128, Breekon) “The Spider’s always an easy job – no fuss, no complication, everything planned and prepared. It knows too much to truly be a Stranger, but hides its knowing well enough to endure.”

So mmmmmm, I might be grasping at straws and I still want to hope about Web!Martin but. What Martin is doing can still perfectly be read as absolutely Web-y: not confronting and mostly getting people where and how he wants them, making them believe they are the ones in control of their own actions and decisions, while hiding in plain sight.

- I’m… so sorry for Martin, why is your life SO HARD baby:

(MAG138) MARTIN: Great. Great, great. So, what you’re [NERVOUS LAUGHTER] actually saying is that you’re gonna be… no help whatsoever! ELIAS: … Just like old times~ MARTIN: I don’t know what I expected.

(MAG144) MARTIN: You’re not just going to tell me, maybe? PETER: When have I ever? MARTIN: [LONG-SUFFERING SIGH]

Martin had to deal with BOTH of them, do you even realize how shitty his life is? He got the Worst Of Elias, and he’s been dealing with Peter for months, and They’re Just The Same. (Lonely Eyes rubbing off on each other, I GUESS? :w)

(- On that nsfw note:

(MAG144) MARTIN: And you? PETER: I have my own explorations I need to attend to. […] I’m absolutely delighted with your progress, and I feel you’ve earned some straight answers. MARTIN: But not from you. PETER: Oh, no. That sort of conversation makes me very uncomfortable.

1°) “Straight” (answers) make Peter uncomfortable 2°) Peter has his “own explorations” to take care of

… was that a reference to Elias, Peter.)

- The Dark is (presumably) dealt with so now, we’re getting new Questions in the Speculation Game, namely: who is Peter’s “friend”?

(MAG144) PETER: I have my own explorations I need to attend to. And a, hum… meeting. To arrange. For you…! MARTIN: For me? PETER: I’m absolutely delighted with your progress, and I feel you’ve earned some straight answers. MARTIN: But not from you. PETER: Oh, no. That sort of conversation makes me very uncomfortable. No, I’m owed a favour by a friend of mine. I’ve asked him to stop by, when he’s back in the country. MARTIN: You’re not just going to tell me, maybe? PETER: When have I ever? MARTIN: [LONG-SUFFERING SIGH] PETER: Oh, come now. What would life be without the occasional twist?

It’s a “he”. People we’ve heard about that I’m considering:

* Mikaele Salesa: we got reminded of his existence in MAG141, and he’s been revealed to be Officially Dead… through a third-hand account, who never saw the body, and it was after retrieving an item with an unknown purpose (but a broken camera lens… brought me to mind Beholding or Dark stuff, and something allowing you to conceal instead of revealing?). We know that Peter and Salesa were on good enough terms, back in MAG066, for them to… bet on whether someone would survive getting accidentally stuck in one of Salesa’s items, and he looked a bit relieved that the dude hadn’t died, so Peter opening the crate sounded like he was doing him a favour => could be the one Peter is referring to, or something else, but at least, they know each other, they both are Sailors People, etc., so learning a bit more about how they came to be acquaintances/them working on some projects together would make sense.

* Simon Fairchild: Peter said that his friend would be “back in the country” and we know that Simon Fairchild, who travels a lot, is actually from Hackney (if it’s the same con artist who was active in the 1930s that Jon had worked on, as he mentioned in MAG051). The Lukases and Fairchilds participated together in the Daedalus project, both “families” (Gerry told us that while the Lukases are about bloodlines, Fairchilds are… more of a brand?) are filthy rich, and, overall, Jon jinxed it back in MAG124 when he spat that “I do not think I ever wish to meet him.”

* Adelard Dekker…? I would be very surprised if he had been on friendly terms with Peter, but then, we don’t know much about Adelard (he tended to save people or prevent more victims when he was around… but it was more about neutralising threats than caring much about collateral damages: he did use explosives to stop The Flesh’s ritual). I’m kinda expecting Adelard to either have turned into an Extinction avatar by present time, or have been killed researching it, or have been killed… by Peter, hence Peter knowing so much about his researches but not asking for his help in tracking down his statements. (I had also considered at some point that MMM, what if Adelard and Peter are actually the same person under aliases…? But they’re both Rare Cases of characters who have had official descriptions: Peter is very pale even for a white man, while Adelard is a Black man. So nah.)

* Oliver Banks…? I’m not suggesting him because I love this sneaky little shit and would love to hear him more – er, not only because of it. But overall, Peter was able to explain to Martin why The End had never tried a ritual attempt and wasn’t interested in it, while he wasn’t as certain of The Web’s motivations for doing the same (and not carrying out its ritual)… so that could fit with him being actually pretty well acquainted with an End avatar as an inside source. Not banking (get it? get it?) on it, but. (Also, canonically handsome mlm Oliver never met Tim (as far as we know), which is a shame, but. Martin is still right here. And Oliver knows a bit about Jon’s dreams and overall situation with the Spiders. So could be an interesting encounter.)

* Another Lukas…? Peter said “friend”, though, but I’m pretty sure he would call Martin a “friend” to someone else if asked, and they’re not friends. (… This sentence sounds like SF’s Trexel.)

* I’m trying to “be in Peter’s head” and imagine what it would take for him to use that wording, and: I’m not expecting it at all, because I think he… won’t be relevant ever aside from what we were told in MAG118. But. But if Peter’s “friend” was actually Martin’s dad, this is probably the wording he would use, and it would be awful.

- So we got an update and Basira&Jon made it “home” safely:

(MAG144) DAISY: They’re back. I thought you might wanna know. [INHALE] Seems like it went smooth – too smooth for Basira, sounds like. Keeps looking at Jon like she can’t believe he made it back. [SILENCE] I, uh… I mentioned our conversation to him; he asked me to check on–

We technically don’t know how long it took them through Helen’s corridors, but presumably not much time. (… Martin had apparently felt like he had been stuck with Tim in Michael’s for weeks, although it was actually at most a day or two? He did spit that it had been “weeks” at Elias but we know the dates at the end of season 2 / beginning of season 3, it can’t have been weeks.)

Why is Basira surprised that Jon managed to make it back…? Is it because she thinks he should be dead from the Dark Sun…? (Because… I would expect Basira to be surprised that she herself made it back – and we had confirmation that she wasn’t planning to get rid of Jon against The Dark, since she tried to convince him to not Try To Get Himself Killed and even suggested that leave a potential threat untouched, in MAG143… So why the focus on Jon?) Daisy interacted with him and didn’t mention anything amiss, so I doubt he got blinded, in any case?

In summary: we’ve… been cut-out from Jon’s POV since MAG139/MAG140 and Jon Still Remains A Mystery – what is he thinking, when did he begin to forcefully torture and extort live-statements from innocent people (… if it was indeed him in MAG142 and not the rib he gave to Jared mutating or something)? Martin has been gradually taking more importance, in season 4: he was barely seen at first (MAG124, MAG129), began to have his moments alone/with Peter (MAG126), went back to reading statements (MAG134, MAG138, MAG144) and to having episodes solely dedicated to him interacting with people and wondering about his own researches (MAG138 when he first visited Elias, MAG142 when he received the Unnamed Female Victim’s complain). Martin’s episodes are getting more and more frequent, to the point of… alternating with “Jon”’s episodes since we came back from the hiatus. While Jon’s own thoughts are currently hidden to us, Martin has been more transparent and has received focus of his own. He’s stepping up as a protagonist, right now… and it could be the sign that we’re meant to lose Jon (whether because he would die-die or die-as-Jon) soon…?

(- Last time Martin and Jon interacted was fifteen episodes ago, in MAG129 (holy Mew) and… at this point, I’m doubting more and more that if they do interact ever again, it would go… well. Whether because Peter is in the room and Martin pulls the same thing he did with Daisy (shouting at her until she left, screaming/pretending/maybe being more honest than he thought about his own bitterness), or because Martin takes into account what he’s been told by the woman in MAG142, or… anything. Even if Jon picks up, like the fandom did, on the fact that he’s been led by Elias to experience other Fears and that the Lonely is missing… pointing out to Martin that Martin is possibly meant to be the one inflicting the Lonely on him, and that Peter’s schemes were mostly to keep Martin occupied and push him towards the Lonely to have an effect on Jon… would be devastating for Martin? It’s still a possibility (though I personally do believe that there IS indeed a new threat, whether it’s The Extinction or… something else, that they’ve all been misinterpreting), and it was brought up, whether it’d be true or not, I can’t imagine Martin reacting well to the thought that he’d have only been used and never mattered in the first place. How could Jon and Martin even interact, nowadays? Jon has already told Martin that he missed him. Daisy implied that Jon sent her to check on him. Martin knows that Jon is worried and cares – he knows, and it’s not enough, because there is the new threat and Peter to deal with at the moment. And in the meantime, Jon has apparently fallen deeper into Beholding than we previously thought. How could they even find a common ground after this…? (………………… except by sharing mourning over Tim and Sasha, I guess. I miss Tim.)

Title for MAG145 is out and OOOOH BOY. Obviously, it brings to mind the whole content of MAG139 and Jon’s tirade at the end – AND it screams “Corruption statement” (finally!! baby is maybe finally making it into season 4!!). We have a link between Desolation and Corruption through Diego’s beliefs in “Asag” (who contained both aspects), and the fact that Arthur Nolan had been “demoted” from cult leader to The Hive’s landlord and… we still don’t know the story behind that. But I’m not sure we would dig into Desolation/Agnes-related matters so soon, since Eugene had explained that they had lost their chance for their ritual for a few decades – it’s not an urgent matter for Jon, I doubt he’ll keep investigating right now, after having just confirmed that they aren’t a current threat? So, mmm, things I’m considering:

- Jon digging into Corruption/Desolation history again anyway.

- Jon digging into the Corruption to check if they got their ritual attempt – it’s missing on our list, could have been what the worms were trying to do in the tunnels but we still don’t know… and overall, we don’t know a lot about how Corruption operates past independent avatars (The Hive/Jane Prentiss, and John Amherst, Maggie/Gordie): would a ritual be carried out by a lonesome avatar, or would it need a collaboration between many?

- Another of Gertrude’s tapes, this time about The Corruption and their plans for a ritual? Because perhaps the double meaning of the title could… be about her own thoughts (since we already had a look at Jon’s own in MAG139).

- MELANIE digging into Corruption-related matters to track down (or establish what happened to him, if he’s dead) John Amherst’s moves after MAG036/MAG055’s reports.

As for the second meaning: I doubt it would be about Martin, and I’m not sure if it can be about Jon again so soon after MAG139 (unless… it’s about Something Else, ie Jon, what are your current thoughts about The Watcher’s Crown. Have you never mentioned that you wanted to stop it because you’re afraid of negative repercussions if you say it outright, or because you actually do not not want to prevent it.)… so, the assistants about Jon? Or about Martin, since he chased Daisy away? Or an overall realisation that they thought they were doing their own things, but have probably been played by Elias all through season 4?

[sixmorningsafter]

Did She Really Love Me?

Okay, so. Without getting into too much detail, here’s how the past couple of months (in regards to SMA of course) have been: I started the review for the most recent chapter as soon as it came out, but it was too emotional (and boy, I was too emotional) to even try. I tried again maybe a month or so later, but writer’s block and Emotions were not about it. Then, I thought, let’s be creative with SMA crack, and I started doing wedding drabbles + moodboards because ya know, I’m planning a wedding (remind me to show you The Dress). I finished the steroline one, but then my laptop crashed. Violently. So, that was fun. Idk if I can recover anything off my laptop, but it seems like I may not be able to. That’s another story and drama entirely.

Now, I have a new laptop, so that’s good. But then, I heard Did You Really Love Me by Jeff Carl:

Did ya really love me? Did ya even know how much I cared? Did ya really know me? Oh, I’m feelin’ so unprepared. It’s getting harder to breathe. We had such good, why did you leave? What did you think that you need that you couldn’t find it in me?

So, I wrote this Stefonnie, post-Stelena drabble/one-shot whatever. Enjoy the angst.

“Wow. Okay. Um…”

Stefan isn’t even concerned by Bonnie’s sudden presence in his apartment. If he’s honest, he’s been seeing and hearing things for the past three weeks, barely functioning on a minimal amount of sleep. He knows she’s referring to the whirlwind of his apartment, things he’s tossed and toppled, but he is unbothered.

Everything he sees reminds him of her, and behind his eyelids, everything he doesn’t see does the same.

“Stef…��� Bonnie’s voice is low, like she’s talking to a patient groggy on medication. “Stefan, it’s Bonnie.”

A muted rage makes him want to snap. I’m heartbroken, not a moron! But, when the gravity of his situation weighs on him, he bites his tongue. Oh, but he was a moron. He is a moron. His eyes are dry, but his chest caves around his sad heart.

“You haven’t been answering my calls.”

She looks like she’s navigating a booby-trap. She sits next to his contorted body on the sofa. The way his arms wrap around him, you’d think he was a mummy. Petrified by shock and loss.

“I hope you don’t mind, I used the spare. Stefan…”

She pushes hair away from his forehead, and he knows it’s dramatic when he flinches, but he can’t help it. Physical contact hurts. Everything hurts. He catches a glimpse of her frown, but he knows under the worry is anger.

“Okay, first things first.” She pops up. “We’re going to get you some food. Then, we’ll…” She surveys the room—then frowns. “Is this an e-cigarette?”

He doesn’t smoke, so he understands the confusion. He doesn’t even have the courage to even look in her direction. Look, Rebekah had to learn drama from someone in their family.

She ignores it and orders Chinese food. Their favorite—now his favorite—is right across the street. His stomach whines, but he won’t be able to keep it down.

“Don’t order from there,” he rasps as she’s almost done. She startles at his wrecked voice. “Order from the one by you.”

Understanding, she nods. She cancels the order and speed-dials her Chinese restaurant. She orders the same food. As she listens to the employee read the order back, she studies the room. He knows she wants to clean it—that’s how she usually gets out of her own funks—but she would need his help. Help he is unwilling to give.

“Thanks.” She hangs up and looks at him. They make eye contact, and he knows her heart goes out to him. She inhales deeply before clapping her hands together. “Okay, buddy, let’s get you into the shower. When you’re all clean, the food will be here by then, hopefully, and then we’ll eat, and we’ll see about cleaning this—”

Her perky singsong tone strikes something, and he heaves a sob he didn’t know was still in him.

“Oh, hon—”

“What did I miss?” he croaks. Bonnie’s optimism crumples into pity. He knows all her faces. He knew all of her faces. “What did she need that I didn’t give her? That I couldn’t give her? I gave her everything.”

His fingers curl into his palms. He did give her everything—every part of him, anything she asked. What did he do to drive her into the arms of another man? He could scoff—how could he even call this other guy a ‘man’? What man steals another’s love?

His lungs burn.

How could he have been so blindsided? God, he thought they were on the same page. Love at first sight, a true love, damning how young or how little they knew about one another—it was an epic, long-lasting love that learns every secret, every tic, everything as the long, beautiful years go on.

Love? Beauty? He does scoff. Fallacies he’s bought into, he’s fed on all these years.  

When Bonnie seizes him in a strong embrace, he realizes she’s the only one who can keep him grounded right now. Not even his sisters could comfort him (not that anyone other than Freya even tried).

Muffled against her chest, he manages, “We were perfect.”

“No couple is perfect.” Her reminder is gentle. It stings less coming from her. “No one is perfect, not even you.” It’s a hook for a joke, but she recognizes he’s not biting. “People are selfish, and people mess up… monumentally.”

“Did she really love me?”

Bonnie squeezes his shoulders, and they sit. They sit and sit, listening to the sounds of life right outside his window, of the city and of the birds and the wind. Listening to sounds of life right in the room, of the thundering silence surrounding their own breathing and heartbeats.

Someone knocks on his door. It’s the delivery guy. Bonnie presses an uncharacteristic kiss to his temple and leaves. Symbolic, really. The apartment smells of salt and savor. She returns and gently untangles his arms.

“You’re going to shower—no sad music video renditions—” she tries to garner a laugh, but he barely lifts the corners of his mouth. “Then, we feast.”

He knows she means well, as she shuffles him into the bathroom. She jokes that he’s on his own from here, and even that sends a jolt through his severed heart. He knows she means well, as she blasts 90’s hip hop and rap on his stereo, no doubt trying to bring order back to his living room.

But under the running water, in the overwhelming scent of a generic shampoo and not the warm vanilla he was used to, he is still crushed by his unanswered question.

Did she really love me?

–

this year’s been rough in many ways, one of which is the first full piece I’ve written since April maybe? feels good to write again. hope your holidays were fun and restful <3

A/N below the cut:

OKAY, so to begin with: I have a theory that sometimes, even though it defies all that ‘practice makes perfect’ shit we’ve been hearing our whole lives, taking a lengthy break from writing can actually make you better. Dunno if it has to do with a chance to break from your routine and then come back with a fresh voice, or if you just come back on less of an autopilot than you were in before, but one way or another, it happens sometimes, and THIS IS TOTALLY THAT. I know you feel rusty but GIIIIRRRLLL, this was LOVELY.

Everything he sees reminds him of her, and behind his eyelids, everything he doesn’t see does the same.

AHHHHH.

His chest caves around his sad heart.

AHHHHH.

 Look, Rebekah had to learn drama from someone in their family.

I cackled.

Not even his sisters could comfort him (not that anyone other than Freya even tried).

Lexi was the not-gonna-say-I-called-it-but-I-highkey-called-it sister and Rebekah was the ‘omg I know let’s use this opportunity for a much-needed makeover’ sister. 

She jokes that he’s on his own from here, and even that sends a jolt through his severed heart.

AHHHHHH.

Okay, before I just quote the shit out of this whole thing, I’ll reign it in: you captured Stefan and Bonnie’s relationship so friggin’ perfectly. Bonnie would absolutely be a blend of empathy, humor, and tough BFF love, and Stefan would absolutely be that balance of wallowing drama and genuine heartbreak. You did such a marvelous job toeing that line - it’s so easy to just take the humor route and trivialize his theatrics when it comes to this breakup (I do it all the time, lololol), but between the humorous bits of melodrama, you genuinely made my heart break for him. I could feel his devastation. Devastated Disney prince. Also, you did such a fantastic job capturing the tension in the room and the quiet, desolate atmosphere. It felt like the aftermath of a natural disaster, like some bomb had detonated a few weeks ago and Stefan was just still sitting in the wreckage of it all, resigned, ash and burnt-edged debris settled all around him. The beats of silence and processing during their conversation gave it such a realistic pace, and I loved all of Stefan’s thoughts throughout it. Especially loved this one: 

Stef…” Bonnie’s voice is low, like she’s talking to a patient groggy on medication. “Stefan, it’s Bonnie.”

A muted rage makes him want to snap. I’m heartbroken, not a moron! But, when the gravity of his situation weighs on him, he bites his tongue. Oh, but he was a moron. He is a moron. His eyes are dry, but his chest caves around his sad heart.

Just felt so genuinely human. Also loved the detail about the Chinese place and how he had her order the exact same food from a different one. Very real. 

Anyway, I miss the crap out of you and your writing (PLEASE GET BACK TO WRITING, AND IF YOU WANT TO USE SMA AS AN EASY WAY TO EDGE BACK INTO IT, I CAN’T THINK OF A BETTER REASON FOR SMA TO EXIST). Also, your wedding dress is a legit DREAM. I don’t even really get too into weddings and stuff but gah, I’m so excited for yours. It’s definitely been a tough year for me too, but I’m beyond thrilled for the good things coming ahead for you and I want all the updates re: you and Ryan. 

LOVE YA GIRL.